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A B., A.M. .COLUMBIAN COLLEGE. "71 .'73 






Cornell University Library 
DA 690.M4P96 

Memorials of Manchester streets. 

3 1924 028 167 173 

Cornell University 

The original of tiiis book is in 
the Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 








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whose mortuary treasures 

{the patient gleanings of a lifetime) 

have lent interest and value 


Cl&ese Pages. 


IF any gleaner can add a fresh grain of wheat to the 
historical harvest already garnered, it is presumable 
he may bring his grain, and be welcomed ; and although, 
as Solomon in his Wisdom averred, there is nothing abso- 
lutely new under the sun, the old may sometimes be dis- 
entombed to advantage, casting a redeeming light over the 
forgotten past. 

The past, be it remembered, is never found isolated in 
Nature, but is interwoven inseparably with the present, 
thus forming a beacon-flame for the future. So, taking 
a dutiful lesson from the universal mother, I have en- 
deavoured to blend " the quick and the dead " in this 
chronicle of Manchester men and their abodes. 

It has been observed by the favourite author of " Our 
Village," that she valued much less any reputation she 
might gain as a writer of romance, than the credit to be 
derived from the less ambitious, but more useful, office of 
faithfully uniting and preserving those fragments of tradi- 
tion, experience, and biography which give to history its 
living interest. To this article of Miss Mitford's literary 
creed the writer of " Memorials of Manchester Streets " is 
disposed to subscribe. 

The series of chapters here presented was commenced 
in the Manchester Guardian six years ago, and has been 
continued at convenient intervals to a recent date. 

In its collective form, the book has undergone careful 
revision, extension, and re-arrangement, in order that it 

viii Preface. 

may be found reliable for reference and interesting to 
peruse. In furtherance of the same endeavour, numerous 
illustrations, original or rare, have been introduced. In 
these illustrations the writer feels a certain amount of 
confidence which the letterpress alone might fail to 
engender. Their interest will take a wider range. In 
addition to the connoisseurs who will prize them for their 
antiquity, and increase the number in compliment to the 
old town, many unlearned yet inquiring spirits will " read 
the pictures " with pleasure, though unable to peruse the 
author's portion of the volume. Even in this lettered age, 
not all are lettered ; and with the untaught the eye must 
be purveyor-in-ordinary to the intellect. Hence the value 
of characteristic engravings, which, telling their own inter- 
esting story, require no formal teacher. 

The work is based on the earliest map of the town that 
can be considered authentic, aided by Buck's admirable 
South-West Prospect, taken in 1728, when our primitive 
Lancashire borough was Manchester only, and before her 
affairs had expanded into national or world-wide import- 
ance. In other respects the volume will speak intelligibly for 
itself, rendering unnecessary much prefatory matter. 

In my parting paragraph I wish to acknowledge the 
receipt of sundry items of information — often coming 
unsought and unexpected, and therefore the more wel- 
come. To name a few out of many aiders might seem 
an invidious course ; so I bow, in preference, to each 
kindly compliment, and in this wise lay aside the pen. 

R. W. P. 

Manchester, 1874, 



hunt's bank. 

A Glance beneath the Modernised Surface, 

Etymology of Hunt's Bank — The Prison-House and its 

Memories, ..... 

Old Buildings and New Improvements — Accidents — Mars and 

Venus, ... 
Views of Hunt's Bank, .... 

Strangeways Walks, Stile, and Park — Eels in the Irwell, 
Wilfulness of the River Irwell, 

List of Floods, ..... 

" Rambles by Rivers," .... 

Forgotten Burial - Ground at Hunt's Bank — " The Pauper": 

Drive," ...... 

Manchester Prison-Life in Past Times, 

House of Correction — " Spanking Roger " and the Footpads, 

John Howard the Philanthropist — List of Prisoners, 

The Chetham Library — Peculiar Features of Hunt's Bank,- 

The Soldier's Return and Recompense, 



The "Big Park" and the "Little Park " — Muffin - Crier 

Drowned, ..... 

Modem Erections covering the Ancient Demesne, 
" The Weavers' Friend " — Meeting in St George's Field, 
Imprisonment and Funeral of Colonel Hanson, 
Monumental Inscriptions at Stand Chapel, 











The Old Apple-Market — Mr Charles Lawson, 

Supposed Homes of the Flemish Weavers, 

The Sun Inn and Poets' Corner, 

Election Day at Chetham's Hospital, . 

The College Reading-Room, . 

Crumpsall Hall Described, 

Rev. Joshua Brookes — Thomas Barritt, 

Ye Mylnegate : its Fields and Gardens, 

Antique Mansions and their Owners, . 

A Millgateer Shot — Fall of Three Shops, 

" Manchester's Improving Daily," 

Nathan Wood (" Patten Nat "), 

The Last Bull-bait — A Conscientious Printer, 

Scotland and Gibraltar, 

Job Hindley, .... 







Punch and Judy, . . . . . 

Smithfield Market — Bookstalls, 

Book- Hunting and Booksellers, 

Bygone Periodicals — Illustrated Shop-Windows, 

Diary of James Weatherley, . . . . 

Literary Ephemerals and Undying Favourites, 


god's acre. 

The Cathedral Yard — Buried Generations, 

Grave of Samuel Bamford's Mother 

Accidents at Stanyhurst and at the New Bailey Brido-e" 

Royalist Vicar of Kirkburton, . . " ' 

Murder at Mr Littlewood's, Pendleton, 

City and Suburban " God's Acre "—Old Mortality 

Sunday at Cartmel, . . _ ' ' 









Geoffrey Gimcrack— The " Red Rover," . .75 

The Meadows of Market Street, . . -76 

Piccadilly in Past Times, . . . . -78 

Daubholes and the Ducking-stool, . . . -79 

Singers and Comedians, . ... 80 

Farewell Addresses, . . . . . . 8 r 

Popular Sportsman and Venerable M.P., . -83 



General Preparations, 

Infirmary Pond and Fountains, 

Arrival in Salford — Peel Park, 

Entry into Manchester, 

The " Iron Duke," . 

Proceedings in the Exchange, 

" Rise, Sir John Potter " — Triumphal Arches 

The Illuminations, 

Singing-Classes and Scholars at Patricroft, 

The " Royal " Exchange, 







The Roman Wall in Castle Field, 

Sir Lancelot du Lake and Tarquin, . 

Carving of Tarquin's Head at Chetham's College, 

" Ancient Ballad of Sir Tarquin," . 

Metrical Family Legends, 

Origin and Etymology of Knot Mill, . 

The River Tib — Labre/s Fold, 

Humphreys' Garden, Knot Mill, 



1 1 r 





A Locality of many Names and Aspects, 

The Sylvan Heritage of the Derbys and the Mosleys, 

Edward, " Lord of Darby," .... 

The " Erie " of Derby's Epitaph, 

Archery Butts in Aldport Lane and at Old Garratt, . 

Lord Strange at Aldport Lodge — Beginning of the Civil War, 

The Siege of Manchester in 1642, 

Emblematic Carving on a Church Boss, 

Supposed Church at Aldport : Authorities pro and con, 

Luddite Riots in 1 8 1 2 — " Watch and Ward," 

Double Murder on Ancoats Bridge, . 

Trials and Executions of the Rioters, 

Ancoats Old Hall Described, 








Derivation of the Name, .... 

Tonman Street — Statuette of Jupiter Stator discovered, 

Stewart Street— Hale Churchyard, 

Longworth Street — Aldport Weighing-Machine, 

The Cockpit — The Windmill, 

Labrey's Fold Revisited, 

The Quay— The " Quakers' Folly," . 

Brazennose Street — Cumberland Street, 

Poorhouses — Almshouses, 

Spinning Field — Tommy Lye the Jockey, - . 

Kersal Moor : its Races and Ballads, 

Wood Street — James and William Ogden, 







The Circus in Chatham Street—" Victorious Stump," 
John Wild the Pedestrian, .... 
Library of Local Literature, .... 
Characteristics of Piccadilly, ... 



Contents. xiii 



The Artist's Grave, .... 


. IS! 

The Liverseege Memorial, . 

. IS3 

List of his Works, .... 

• iSS 

Little Red Riding-Hood, 

. IS7 

" Dirge for a Dead Painter," 

1 60 



Brief Summary of Deansgate, . . . .163 

Mr Joseph Aston, . . . . . .164 

His Friendship with James Montgomery, . . .165 

Printing-office attacked by a Mob : Types thrown into 

"Pye," . . . . . .166 

Prospectus oi the ManchesUr Mai/, . . . .168 

Mr Aston's Local and Dramatic Works, . . .171 



Its Rural Features Portrayed, . . . .170 

Juvenile Branches and Parent Stems, . -177 

Charity School in the Churchyard, . . . .178 

Summer Camp — Rev. John Whitaker, . . -179 
Rise and Progress of Letterpress Printers, Stationers, Binders, 

Booksellers, and Newspaper Publishers in Manchester, . 1 80 



Dr Samuel Hibbert-Ware, . . . • 

William Robert Whatton, .... 
John Palmer, ..... 

Rise and Progress of Printing and Bookselling concluded, 
The Market-Placein 1823, .... 
Primitive Printing- Office, .... 






Ridge Field and the Ridge Family, . 

The Parsonage and its former Residents, 

Buck's Prospect of the Parsonage Lands, 

" Cherry Ripe " — " Saynte Mary Gayte," 

Burials at Cross Roads, 

Everett and Montgomery in Sedgwick's Court, 

Tombstone Inscriptions of the Sowler Family, 




Looking Backward, ...... 

Jesse Lee — Valedictory Address, .... 

" Sir Percy Legh," with a Glance at other Legends not in- 
cluded by Mr Roby in his unfinished " Traditions of 
England," ..... 

The Water-Poet's " Eagle and Child," 

The Sorrocolds and the " Pynners," . 

The Old Coffee-House, .... 

John Taylor's Description of his Entertainment, 

Street Nomenclature, 





Picturesque Home of John Easby, 

Randam Scenes from Life, . 

Amateur Performances and Strolling Thespians, 

Mrs Ann Hinde : Monumental Inscription, . 

The Green-Gown School : Epitaphs on the Gravestone of the 

First Master and Mistress, 
Present Value of the School Property, 
Robert Thyer : his Tenement and Gardens at Smithy Door 

Bank, . 
Ruminations on Victoria Bridge, 
The Trafford Arms— Fatal Panic in the Music Saloon 










The Irwell in the Last Century — Boathouse — Curious Bath, . 239 
Spaw Street— The Salford Charter, .... 240 
Early Impressions of Salford, . . . .242 

Springfield Lane — Collier's Printworks, . . 244 

Charles Broster — Sarah Brearcliffe, .... 245 
Country Names and Town Streets, .... 246 
The Cockpit and Cockfighting, . . . .247 

Salford Cross and Court-House — Coronation Rejoicings, . 248 

John Wesley Preaching — " Birds of Paradise," . . 249 

Sal Ford— " Cherry Ripe," . . . -251 

Buttercups and Daisies, . . . -253 


ST Ann's square and its silent inmates. 

Ancient Inlets to St Ann's Square — Trees Growing therein, . 258 
Notes from the Diary of a Manchester Wigmaker, . 259 

Inscriptions in St Ann's Churchyard, . . .260 

Notices of the De Quincey Family, . . . .261 

John Shaw — " House-warming " on the Site of the Old Punch- 
House, ...... 264 

Latest Users of Sedan- Chairs — Mulberry Street, . .265 

The Manchester Jacobites, . . . . .266 

The First Exchange, . . . . .268 

bits of our borough town. 

Official and Mercantile Announcements — Glimpses of Man- 
chester Life during the Last Century, . . 269-274 

Hen Speaking on Shrove-Tuesday, . . . .273 

Butter seized, Britannia and St George and the Dragon notwith- 
standing, . . . • .274 

Clock Alley— " Hot Chelsea Buns," . . . .275 

xvi Contents. 




Inscriptions of the Taylor Family of Marshleach, . . 278 

Tombstone Inscription of Humphrey Booth, of Salford, . 279 

Centenarians — Gallant Amazon, . . . .280 

Peculiar Entries from the Registers, . . . .281 

Dutch Soldiers in Manchester ; their presence here accounted 

for by the Revolution, . . . . .282 


THE bishop's grave. 

The Country Churchyard, . . . . .284 

Monument at Heaton Mersey, . . .285 

Biographical Sketch of Bishop Lee, . . . .286 

Memorial Sermon by Dr Benson, . . . .287 



Remarks on the Early History of Manchester, . .288 

Notice of John Higson, . . . . .288 

« Rough Notes on Old Manchester," Essay purioined, . 289 

Rebuilding of the Cathedral Tower, . . . .292 

St Mary's of Doomsday Book, . . . 291-296 






Causes of Pleasure, .... 

Visit to the Library, and Speculations thereon. 

Mausoleums and Libraries compared, 

Curiosities formerly shown at the Chetham Library, 

Standard Books and their Authors, . 

Pleasure and Value of Intercourse with Antiquity, 


. 310 




England's Warriors and her Peaceful Worthies, 
Gossiping Delineations of the Ancient Town, 
Traces of the Roman Road, . 
Brief Biographical Sketches, 

. 318 

. 322 


The Publisher tenders his best thanks to those gentlemen who have kindly aided in 
the embellishment of these Memorials by the loan of artistic rarities. 

Rural Sport ; or, a Peep at a Lancashire Rush-Cart 


From the original painting by Alexander Wilson, in the 
possession of Mr Roger Wilson, Woodford, Cheshire. 

"Rural Sport" is here reproduced by the Woodbury pro- 
cess, under the superintendence of Alfred Brothers. The 
artist has chosen Long Millgate as the scene of his Morris- 
dance, the date being 1821. 

" The wakes ! the wakes ! the jocund wakes ! 
My wandering memory now forsalces 
The present busy scene of things, 
Erratic, upon Fancy's wings, 
For olden times, with garlands crown'd. 
And rush-carts green on many a mound." 

Elijah Ridings. 

Residence of the High Master of the Grammar 

School, Long Millgate, 1821 . . . Title-page, 

From a drawing by H. G. James. 


Seal of Old Manchester .... i 

House of Correction, Hunt's Bank, aboiit 1766 . . 13 

Facsimile of a drawing by Thomas Barritt. 
Strangeways Hall, 1746 18 

From Berry & Casson's Plan. 


XX Descriptive List of the Illustrations. 


Residence of the High Master of the Grammar 

School 25 

From a drawing by H. G. James. 

View near the Old Apple-Market . . . . 26 

Ancient Houses in Long Millgate . . . . 28 

From "Views in Lithography of Old Halls, &c., in Man- 
chester and the Vicinity." Six parts, folio, 1821. Drawn by 
H. G. James. Printed at H. F. James's Lithographic Press 
Ridge Field. 

College Old Gate and Grammar School 

From a drawing by F. Mackenzie, in "The Foundations." 

The- "Red Rover" Stage Coach, in Market Street, 1823 75 
The Infirmary, 1815 _„ 

The Queen's Visit to Manchester— The Great 

Gala Day, 1851 gc 

Drawn by George Hayes. Engraved by William Morton. 

Remains of the Roman Wall in Castle Field, 1873 100 
Original Sketch by F. A. Winkfield. 

Outlet of the River Tib at Gaythorn, 1873 • 109 
Original Sketch by F. A. Winkfield. 

Emblematic Carving on a Church Boss . . 120 

Facsimile Copy. 

Ancoats Old Hall 

Engraved by Henry Watkinson. 

Statuette of Jupiter Stator, found in Camp Field . 128 

Drawn by F. A. Winkfield. 
The Key (Quay), 1746 

From Berry & Casson's Plan. 
The Liverseege Memorial 

Dmwn on the Wood, by F. A. Winkfield. From an 
origmal sketch by George Richardson, 




Descriptive List of the Illustrations. xxi 

The Market-Place 194 

Drawn by J. Ralston. Copied from a series of ten Litho- 
graphic Views, thus dedicated on the pictorial title-page : — 
" To the Boroughreeve, Constables, and the Commissioners 
acting under the Manchester Streets Improvement Act : 
This work is, with permission, respectfully inscribed by their 
obedient servants D. & P. Jackson, Repository of Arts, 
No. I Spring Gardens, 1823." The painter, named at the 
foot of the said emblematical title-page, was Mr Mather 
Brown, principal artist to H.R.H the Duke of York; the 
drawers on stone being A. Aglio and J. D. Harding. 



South-West Prospect of Manchester, 1728 . . 204 

By Samuel and Nathaniel Buck. Photo-lithographed by 
Alfred Brothers. 

The chief feature of this rare and interesting view is the 
clear, winding -Irwell. The past and present appearance of 
the river has been thus contrasted by a local minstrel : — 
" Whoe'er hath seen dark Irwell's tide. 
Its sombre look and sullen glide, 
' Would never deem that it, I ween, 

Had ever brighter, gayer been. . . 
When Irwell rolled by feudal tower. 
By shady grove, and fairy bower ; 
When on her banks so oft was borne 
Sweet music of the hunter's horn. . . . 
Forests are here, but not of trees ; 
Forests are here, the homes of men ; 
Mancunium's sons are as the leaves 
Which bloomed upon the forest then." 

Joseph Anthony, 

Old Coffee-House and Shops, about 1774 . . 220 

From a drawing by Thomas Barritt. 

A few of Mr Barritt's unique sketches are preserved in the 
Greaves Collection, but the principal portion are treasured 
in the Manchester Scrap-Book, at the Chetham Library. In 
the catalogue thereof an interesting note has been appended 
by Mr Jones, the courteous librarian : — " This folio volume, 
presented by the late Earl of EUesmere, 1838, includes 
several articles subsequently added of local interest." 

xxii Descriptive List of the Illustrations. 


St Ann's Square, 1746 256 

From Berry & Casson's Plan. 

Tombstone of Thomas de Quincey, in St Cuthbert's 

Churchyard, Edinburgh ...... 263 

Original Sketch. 

The First Exchange, 1729-1792 . . 268 

From Berry & Casson's Plan. 

North-West View of Chetham's Hospital and 

Library, 1797 299 

From a drawing by W. Orme. 

Crumpsall Cottage, the supposed Birthplace* of Hugh 

Oldham ......... 341 

Engraved by Robert Langton. 

Crumpsall Hall, the Birthplace of Humphrey Chetham 352 

Engraved by Robert Langton. 

*..j* The whole (save three or four othenvise named) of the Woodcuts have been 
drawn on the wood by Frederick A. Winkfield, of Ardwick, and 
engraved by CHRISTOPHER Davies, of this city, and Robert Paterson, of 

* A rival claim is advanced by Fuller in favour of the town of Oldham. 


t \. ■« 






hunt's bank. 

' ' Old visions haunt the creaking floors, 
Old sorrows sit and wail ; 
While stUl the night-winds out of doors 

Like burly baUiffs rail ! 
Old visions haunt the floor above ; 
The walls with wrinkles frown : 
And people say, who pass that way, 
'Twere well the house were down." 

Charles Swain. 

'"T^HE subject to which we wish to draw the reader's 
-*- attention in our opening pages may seem un- 
promising, comprising, as it does, merely one hundred 
yards (be the same more or less) of new, commonplace 
surface, wherein the casual observer might see as little as 
Wordsworth's obtuse potter saw in the primrose by the 
river's brim, or as Sir Charles Coldstream perceived while 
listlessly peering into the crater of Vesuvius. Neverthe- 
less, we have confidence in our chosen theme, and hope to 
extract something of interest by looking a little beneath 

Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the surface, and by embracing the border line, or watery 

Our first motto verse, selected from Mr Swain's poem 
entitled "Mortality,"' may require a few explanatory words 
to show its relevancy as a text to the present discourse. 
We know not whether the poet's haunted mansion con- 
sisted of mouldering bricks and mortar, or merely rose in 
the vividness of his fancy, to become tenanted by his 
iniagination ; but the prison-house to which the stanza is 
here applied was tangible enough. In the dungeon so long 
and sternly visible at Hunt's Bank the sorrowing inmates 
sat and wailed their fill, with little to cheer them save the 
visions of pleasanter days. The " night winds," sweeping 
across the tree-decked confluence of the two rivers Irk 
and Irwell^ would " rail " as they listed. The floors, being 
formed partly of rock, might scarcely be termed 
" creaking ; " yet the walls frowned in their own rude 
manner; and few persons expressed regret when the 
ancient Fleet, becoming superseded by the New Bailey, 
was ultimately taken down. 

Hunt's Bank, Who was Hunt? Can any reader, 
howsoever learned in the art, mystery, or science of 
etymology, inform us .' His identity seems lost in the 
lapse of many ages, and he is now as insubstantial as the 
fabulous myth, — as shadowless as Peter Schlemihl. With 
his solid and more enduring " Bank " we have been familiar 
since our childhood. We remember that rugged ascent 
before the road levellers (how mercilessly they did level 
hereabout !) came to clear away the long row of miscel- 
laneous houses, public and private, which lined the water- 
side between the two bridges. They were built upon the 

Htmi's Bank. 

rock, and partly overhanging the Irwell. Nor must we 
omit the flight of broad, easy steps leading gently to the 
Old Church, and to the narrow passage flagged with 
lettered gravestones. All these, with the addition of " Tin 
Brow " and sundry workshops, were swept away to form 
the wide new entrance into the town. The passage in 
question was known as "The Steeple End." The local 
habitations, and the names of those martyrs to improve- 
ment, were retained in the Directory to the year 1832, but 
in the succeeding issue of that useful record, in 1836, the 
whole of the antiquated cluster had disappeared, and its 
pages knew them no more. In the year last named, the 
newly-erected wall supporting the road fell into the river, 
destroying in its fall the dyeworks on the Salford side. 
Many years previously (in July 18 14), several houses and 
part of a soapery fell into the water, when three persons 
perished. Still earlier — October 1798 — a man missing 
his way near the Ring o' Bells Tavern, walked into the 
Irwell, and was drowned. 

Of the opposite, or College side of Hunt's Bank, the 
quaint features of the olden time may still be traced in a 
truthful engraving, the handiwork of W. Orme and others, 
about the year 1794, wherein the College, being elevated 
on the rock, holds the premier position. The packhorse, 
a genuine relic of primitive Manchester, is seen jogging 
lazily along on the Strangeways side of the Irk. Upon 
the pathway, a loyal volunteer is seasonably introduced. 
He is pictured in characteristic uniform, with his sweetheart 
won to his side — ^the old life-story of love and war. Alas 
for the men of peace and unromantic trade ! Albeit the 
island of Lemnos is far away, and Mars and Venus have 

4 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

long ago descended to mythological shades, the chains 
of Vulcan, though invisible, still bind them together as of 
yore. Crossing the bridge, a picturesque cottage is shown, 
of which we have no personal recollection ; but with the 
adjoining house, the Castle Inn, we were familiar, inside 
and out Next appears the dungeon, with deserted cells, 
and into these we were wont to peer curiously and in play. 
The sylva of the scene is represented by a leafless solitary 
tree. The view is bounded by the church tower: the whole 
being historically described by Thomas Miller — whose 
descriptions are so uniformly agreeable, that it is grieving 
to see the hat sent round for him in his sad decline. 

Of this scene a local bard-^Charles Kenworthy — writing 
in 1838, thus conveys his impressions in rhyme : — 

" The ' Castle,' that long braved the flood, 
Where oft was brewed stout ale and good, 

A CoUege Inn is seen : 
Where frowned the ancient dungeon wall 
Rise modern buildings, fair and tall. 

And stables Palatine." 

Mr Orme's picture would be an almost indispensable 
accompaniment to these memorials, had we not already 
secured two views of the same spot from different stand- 
points, and depicting the sarne period within a few years. 
If in the latter engraving we lose the front prospect of the 
Bank, we gain the surface of the river, even while the Irk 
was as yet uncovered, and urchins could pursue their duck- 
chasing in the shallow stream. 

Thus far have we written while thinking of an apocryphal 
Mister Hunt in connection with the nomenclature of the 
Bank. A clearer light has been cast on the subject by a 

Hunfs Bank. 

glance at the " Copy of a deed of infeftment, dated the 
8th November 1422, of Thomas la Warre, twelfth baron 
of Manchester, of various lands and the advowson of the 
parish church, to feoffees for the use of the College." In 
this deed, minutely descriptive of our subject-matter, no 
mention is made of Hunt's Bank ; but the words Hunt Hull 
appear instead. As hull, in its obsolete sense, means hill, 
it will be manifest the place has derived its name from the 
sylvan chase. To a comparatively recent period rustic 
names and associations have allied themselves to this 
locality. Our Directories for 1788 and 1794 bear witness 
to the existence of "Strangeways Walks, Hunt's Bank," 
and also " Strangeways Stile." A few years earlier, Peter 
Romney, elder brother of George Romney, the famous 
Lancashire painter, thus alluded to the sylvan character of 
the district : — 

" Beneath the deep and gloomy shade 
Of Strangeways woody park." 

Even the river Irwell, though now laving the foot of 
Hunt's Bank darkly and unlovably, flowed on its ancient 
way, within our limited remembrance, a much clearer, 
purer stream, as a simple incident will show. One day, 
in the summer of 1825, while playing with a juvenile group 
near the then new iron bridge (named the Waterloo, the 
first stone being laid in 181 7), we observed an eel in the 
water, and pursued it along the river's bank, to which it 
closely swam. Several times we caught it in our hand, but 
could not retain the slippery struggler. We parted com- 
pany at the junction of the Irwell with the Irk. This feat 
we should find some difficulty in performing now, even 

Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

were an eel thereabouts to tempt us, inasmuch as the 
traversed land— Waterworth's Field— is no longer an open 
meadow. On a portion of the space embankments have 
been constructed for railway uses ; while on each side of 
the river the ground has been raised as a bulwark against 
the oft-recurring inundations. 

Although thus closely invested, and during the dry 
summer months effectually subdued, the Irwell makes a 
series of sorties in the rainy periods, which, sadly puzzle 
the besieging forces. Being a remarkably sympathetic 
river, it swells with emotion whenever its numerous tribu- 
taries become oppressed to overflowing. In this dangerous 
mood it breaks down or overleaps the barriers, chasing its 
retreating opponents even to their homesteads. It has 
been known to wash out the cradle containing the sleeping 
child, casting the novel boat adrift on the turbulent stream, 
afar from the gentler bosom of the weeping mother. Else- 
where it compels the elders to seek refuge in their upper 
storeys, while the youngsters make light of their troubles 
by floating upon the drawers in the lower rooms, guiding 
their raft with long brushes and brooms instead of oars. 
In the open fields upgrown people lose their way in its 
swollen waters, and are afterwards found drowned. Of the 
loss of property consequent on such reprisals we need not 
speak, as floating pigs, swimming sheep, rushing timber, 
are familiar enough, especially to the luckless wights who 
lose their balance in seizing the spoils of the flood. With 
the view of putting an end to this guerilla warfare between 
the land and the water forces, the neutral powers have been 
summoned to a conference. The authorities of Salford, 
acknowledging a defeat, are willing to pay a very heavy 

Hunt's Bank. 

war contribution, on condition that the Irwell will give 
material guarantees for a lasting peace. Let us hope the 
combined negotiators will deal gently with the erring one, 
remembering that persuasion is better than force. Let 
them stroke the mane of the wilful creature, after the 
Rarey fashion, rather than strike him on the forehead witli 
an iron bar, as Carter subdued the lion, On the outer wall 
of the Castle (afterwards the College) Inn, at Hunt's Bank, 
might be seen, prior to its removal, a series of interesting 
marks indicating the height of many inundations. As those 
hieroglyphics are no longer available, we take the liberty of 
transferring to our narrative a more complete and chrono- 
logical record of the Irwell's freaks, lately furnished by a 
correspondent to the Salford Chronicle. The omission of 
a few comments, and the addition of several incidents and 
authorities, may be noted. 

1616. Extraordinary great flood. Men stood upon 
Salford Bridge, and ladled up water with a little piggin, — 

1649. A great flood. January. 

(172 1. The river was made navigable for vessels of fifty 

1767. Great flood. October. 

1768. High floods. 

1787. Great flood during seven days, which carried 
away a portion of Salford Bridge. 

1799. Great floods, which did much damage. August. 

1804. High floods. 

(1806. Broughton Bridge built at the cost of Samuel 
Clowes, Esq. Rebuilt in 1869. Declared free of toll 
in 1872.) 

8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

1816. Great flood; water higher than in 1768. January. 

1829. High floods. August. 

1837. Very high flood ; water in New Bailey Street and 
Broughton Road ; cattle, furniture, and baby in cradle 
floating down the river. December. 

1840. Great flood, which did considerable damage. 

1843. The temporary foot-bridge, near the New Bailey, 
washed down by the swollen stream. October. 

1852. High floods; the river overflowed its banks, 
causing much loss. 

1 866. Great flood ; water in Strangeways ; serious loss 
of property. November. So remarkable was the height and 
breadth of this inundation, that an obelisk has been 
erected at Peel Park in commemoration thereof. 

1870. High flood ; a little below the level of that in 1866. 

To a thoughtful gazer, a river is always a suggestive 
object, especially when it happens, as in the present 
instance, to be our native stream ; and the sight of its 
waters carries us back to our buttercups and daisies, and 
when, like Ponce de Leon, we yearn and search for the 
priceless fountain of youth, which never can be twice 
found. "Rambles by rivers" is indeed a fruitful theme, 
and forms the title of a pleasant book, where fact and 
fancy, the present and the past, walk leisurely hand in 
hand, the descriptions being enlivened by pictured views. 
When the Avon is associated with Shakespeare, the 
Duddon with Wordsworth, the Lea with "the meek old 
angler, knight of hook and line," how can we fail to 
become interested } 

Of the river Duddon we retain a pleasant memory. 

Hunt's Bank. 

albeit at second-hand, as derived from an artist's well-filled 
sketch-book. Mr William Hull, erst of Manchester, but 
latterly residing in the Lake district, once wandered in the 
footsteps of Wordsworth along the course of the Duddon. 
Perhaps Mr Hull had read Mr Thome's "Rambles by 
Rivers," and thence derived the hint. At all events, he 
strolled from Wrynose Fell, where the Duddon — "cradled 
nursling of the mountain" — rises, to its junction with 
the sea near the Isle of Walney. Within that space he 
delineated with his pencil the varied scenes described 
by the poet's pen. Flowers, stepping-stones, faery chasms, 
and tributary rills, ruins, open prospects, the "dark 
plumes of the blighted yew," the resting-place ; all were 
presented : and as we turned over those summer glories, 
leaf by leaf, at our winter fireside, the contrast gave a 
delight of its own. Of our simple choice, we sometimes 
prefer an artist's sketches to the finished painting com- 
posed therefrom. Many a suggestive charm, or delicate 
indication of the pencil, is lost in the sterner brush or 
more positive graver. Wordsworth and the Duddon may 
now be left to their repose: but are there not other 
authors, and other streams, and other pencils in Old 
England .■' 

The recent alteration of the College Wall at Hunt's Bank 
has displaced a mysterious mound-like enclosure which 
long occupied that spot. How few of the busy multitude 
who daily passed and repassed, between the railway station 
and the city marts knew this was a forgotten burial-ground I 
Yet such in reality it was. When the space in the old 
churchyard became inconveniently limited, this adjacent 
ground was purchased, in 1767, by subscription, in 

lo Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

addition to a ley, walled round, and set apart for the 
interment of paupers, and others of the indigent or vagrant 
fraternity. The incisive lines of a modern poet find here 
a time-worn application : — 

By T. Noel. (Sometimes erroneously attributed to T. Hood.) 

" There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round trot ; 
To the churchyard a pauper is going, I wot ; 
The road it is rough, and the hearse has no springs. 
And hark to the dirge that the sad driver sings : 

Rattle his bones over the stones ; 

He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns ! 

" Oh, where are the mourners ? Alas ! there are none ; 
He has left not a gap in the world now he's gone ; 
Not a tear in the eye of child, woman, or man — 
To the grave with his carcase as fast as you can. 

Rattle his bones over the stones ; 

He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns ! 

" What a jolting and creakhig, and splashing and din ! 
The whip how it cracks ! and the wheels how they spin ! 
How the dirt, right and left, o'er the hedges is hurled ! 
The pauper at length makes a noise in the world. 

Rattle his bones over the stones ; 

He's only a pauper, whom nobbdy owns ! 

" Poor pauper defunct ! he has made some approach 
To gentiUty, now that he's stretched in a coach ; 
He's taking a drive in his carriage at last, 
But it will not be long if he goes on so fast. 

Rattle his bones over the stones ; 

He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns ! , 

" You bumpkin,- who stare at your brother conveyed. 
Behold what respect to a cloddy is paid, 

Hunt's Bank. 1 1 

And be joyful to think, when by Death you're laid low, 
You've a chance to the grave like a gemman to go. 

Rattle his bones over the stones ; 

He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns ! 

" But a truce to this strain, for my soul it is sad, 
To think that a heart in humanity clad 
Should make, like the brutes, such a desolate end. 
And depart from the light without leaving a friend. 
Bear softly his bones over the stones ; 
Though a pauper, he's one whom his Maker yet owns !" 

During twenty-one years the interments in this tempo- 
rary fragment of " God's Acre " numbered six thousand 
three hundred and eighty-three. In February 1788, at a 
parish meeting, it was resolved — " That the burial-ground 
adjoining the College " Garden " shall be closed up, and no 
bodies be deposited for thirty years to come." These facts 
are verified by the churchwardens' accounts of that period. 
The ground was never re-opened, and every trace of its 
existence is now removed. To become lost in the grave 
is a hard though common fate ; but when the grave itself 
has thus perished, the poor obliterated dust seems doubly 

At this stage of our narrative we wish to illustrate, by 
means of a few curious items of information, the simphcity 
of Manchester prison life in past times — in that older past 
which was buried before we were born. But as our 
personal experience is, of course, insufficient for the 
purpose, what then? Sisyphus could not roll his cease- 
less stone unaided to its resting-place on the hill-top. 
Fortunately we have friends in the antiquarian court, 
which court is as full of peculiar treasures as was the 
far-famed Persian cave ; and we have only to exclaim, 

1 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

with Ali Baba, " Open sesame ! " to find our reasonable 
wishes gratified. So we borrow the requisite fragmentary 
ore — the pickings from parish registers, the churchyard 
gleanings, the rubbings from ancient brasses, and the like ; 
place them in a modern crucible ; proceed to blend and 
polish them with somewhat of the lapidary's art, and lo ! 
we have Aladdin's lamp, the new one for the old. The 
prison once located at Hunt's Bank on the declivity of 
the hill was a genuine antique ; but we can discover no 
trace of its remote origin. Mr Harland's supposition that 
the dungeon was coevctl with the Baron's Court is quite 
feasible. A newer jail was built in 1580: so states Mr 
Timperley in his "Annals ; " and "the expense was for a 
time imposed on the more wealthy of the prisoners." It 
had, like some of its inmates, many aliases, being known 
at different periods as the Dungeon, the New Fleet, 
the House of Correction. The first title was justified by 
a dark hole, fourteen feet by thirteen, at the bottom of 
nine steps. This place of confinement should not be 
confounded with a near neighbour and rival situated on 
Salford Bridge. The latter dungeon, erst a chapel, built 
by Thomas del Bothe in 1 36.8, was converted into a prison 
in 1505, and used mainly as a lockup until taken down in 
1776. As Manchester possessed no parish registers prior 
to 1 573) these cannot direct us to the earliest incarcera- 
tions at Hunt's Bank, nor even to the unfortunates there 
immured for conscience' sake during the gloomy days 
of Queen Mary; so we must needs begin our examples 
with the reign of Elizabeth, concluding them with the 
Georgian era. 

In 1581, one "Richard Smithe, an ould pryst, died in 

t .'*^ 

tB B. 

\ I 

1 y 

B »- '■J 

I Pk ■>-» 

I * * t «. _ 

Hunt's Bank. 1 3 

the ffleet." On the 7th of February 1584, died " Henrye 
Jackson, prysoner in the ffleete." In 1601 appears an 
entry of a different kind: — "January 15, Alice, doughter 
of Richard Hodghead, borne in the dungion." Five years 
later came a wild reckless character, who resolutely defied 
the plague of Manchester in the height of its terrors. The 
account of this strange prisoner is derived, through a 
friendly hand, from the Calendar of State Papers : — " 1605. 
James Asheton to the constables of Manchester. I hear 
that Philip Fytton, of Moston, labourer, behaves danger- 
ously in going to places and persons- infected with the 
plague, and thence bringing apparel, and wearing the same, 
and wandering abroad in the daytime, and in the night 
lying in outhouses of divers inhabitants of Moston, to their 
grief and danger ; and although he has been chained m his 
cabin by the constables of Moston, he has broken the 
chain. I therefore, in his Majesty's name, command you, 
the constables and officers of the town, to receive the said 
Fytton into your prison or dungeon of Manchester and 
Salford, there to remain at the cost of the town of Moston 
until further orders." 

The next quotation from the register is an accidental 
death:— "Dec. 9, 1707.— Buried, James Glassbrook, a 
soldier ; burnt himself in the dungeon." Another captive, 
of the Jack Sheppard school, had a turn of better fortune 
in 1769, as thus : — One night in September of that year, 
as Cornet Aytoun (Dame Mynshull's " Spanking Roger ") 
was going home to Chorlton Hall in his coach, he was 
attacked near his own door by two footpads, one of whom 
demanded his money. "What money.?" inquired the 
Cornet, leaping out of his carriage ; whereupon the men 

14 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ran away, and Roger, pursuing, caught one of them in a 
field.- Securing the footpad for the night in Chorlton 
Hall, Mr Aytoun sent him in the morning to the dungeon. 
On being removed to the deputy-constable's house, for 
examination before a magistrate and committal to Lan- 
caster Castle, the prisoner made his escape through a 
window, and got clear off. 

Cornet Aytoun was of the Inchdairney family, and 
came to Manchester on recruiting service, for which he was 
well fitted by his winning and familiar ways. He was 
literally a ^?r«/ favourite, being six feet four inches high, 
with breadth and strength in proportion. 

It appears that the small community of " Shakers " were 
more demonstrative a hundred years ago than they have 
been in our time. A number of these enthusiasts entered 
the Old Church on a certain Sunday in July 1773, and 
there — according to Harrop — "wilfully and contemptu- 
ously, in the hour of divine service, disturbed the congre- 
gation then assembled at morning prayers." For this freak 
two men and two women were fined twenty pounds each 
at the Sessions. In default of payment they were confined 
in the House of Correction, at a cost to the town of four 
pounds six shillings. John Howard, the philanthropist, 
paid several visits to Manchester, and the result of his 
researches is briefly appended : — 

I774-— Nov. 5. Prisoners 21 

I77S-— Nov. 16. „ 6 

1776.— Sep. 15. „ 12 

17^9-— May 12. „ n 

1779.— May 12. Impressed men 6 

1782.— Nov. 22. Prisoners 14 

1784.— Jan. 22. „ 51 

1787.— Dec. 27. „ ^3 

Hunt's Bank. 

Mr Howard's later returns give evidence of increasing 
business and extended appreciation ; but just when its 
"good time was coming," the primitive Fleet was super- 
seded by the New Bailey. Mr Howard's book informs us 
that the "keeper's" salary had lately (1776) been raised 
from twenty-five pounds to sixty pounds in lieu of fees. 
The keeper was a chandler, and employed the inmates in 
spinning candle-wick at three halfpence a pound. As the 
prisoners had no allowance (except twopence a day to the 
sick) their earnings were assisted by a poor-box, placed in 
front of the building, and bearing this inscription : — " Sick 
and in prison, and ye visited me not." 

A comical yet truthful picture of the House of Correction 
may be seen in the local scrap-book at Chetham's Librarj^, 
the oldest free library in England, where there are nume- 
rous curiosities remaining, notwithstanding so many have 
been given away. Why (in parenthesis) has Humphrey 
Chetham's legacy been so fiercely assailed of late.' In 
these days of minority members of Parliament, surely the 
minority of antiquarian and studious readers may retain 
their one favourite library, their only historical baronial 
retreat, when the rough-and-ready majority possess a free 
library in every district of the city. Let us preserve, and 
take a pride in preserving, the best and wellnigh the last 
lingering relic of ancient Manchester. The small picture 
in question shows the prison frontage with five windows, 
three being cross-barred. From two of these are suspended 
five long ropes, bags being tied to the ends to receive con- 
tributions, while prisoners stand at the windows to solicit 
alms, in money, tobacco, or food, from the passers-by. At 
the door, the beadle is pushing in an unwilling captive. 

1 6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Adjoining the dungeon, and nearing the church, stands the 
College Barn, taken down subsequent to 1763. On the 
Salford side are trees, repeating themselves in the translu- 
cent Irwell. Upon the green margin at Hunt's Bank sits 
a disciple of Izaak Walton, angling, with due patience, for 
eels, — a kind of fish once plentiful at this " Meeting of the 
Waters," and along the entire course of the Irk ; and so 
exquisitely flavoured withal, that the warden, in 1440, found 
it worth his while to rent the right of fishery, and thus 
secure to the clergy a dainty supply during Lent. The 
literal, sometimes ungainly, but ever-reliable pencil of Mr 
Thomas Barritt has rescued the peculiar features of this 
scene, which varies considerably from both the views 
sketched a few years later by Mr Orme, and serves to com- 
plete the prospect of ancient Hunt's Bank. 

Our closing entry touching the House of Correction 
refers to one James Owen, who was committed in 1789 
for running away from his wife and family. It transpired 
that this venial offender — almost the last immured at 
Hunt's Bank — had been tempted by the recruiting 
sergeant, yielded to his blandishments, and after spend- 
ing the enlistment shilling, marched hastily away to the 
distant battle-field. On his return home, the wife would 
listen to no explanation, nor sing, in anticipation, " Come 
whoam to thi childer an' me." She felt no sympathy with 
soldiering, and was evidently as unwilling as Clytemnestra 
that her Agamemnon should sacrifice long years of do- 
mestic felicity, even for the public weal. Hence "the 
punishment of her truant warrior lord. The mania for 
" woman's rights " is not so novel as many persons sup- 

Hunt's Bank. 1 7 

pose. Those " rights " were understood, appreciated, 
and enforced by many Mistress Owens long before the 
Victorian era. In wresting every atom of the traditional 
"pound of flesh," Shylock has not stood alone, 



" The tall elms come into the mind's eye, and the old baronial mansion, and 
the broken stile leading into the orchard, and the mantled pool, with a thousand 
other pleasant scenes trooping back with the memory of boyhood." 

Horace Heartwell (H. B. Peacock). 

DURING the present writer's youth, the ancient de- 
mesne of the Strangewaies was still a convenient 
retreat for the townsfolk, especially for the juveniles — a 
rough free recreation ground, somewhat resembling Philips 
Park when first formed. The Hall itself, while retaining some 
peculiarities, was not strikingly pictorial ; but the pond 
adjoining was well stored with choice fish, and two distant 
sheets of water, situated upon higher ground, known 
respectively as the "Big Park" and the "Little Park," 
afforded seasonable amusement to anglers in their teens. 
Young bathers, sliders, skaters -here abounded; the con- 
sequences being, that in summer narrow escapes from 
drowning, and in winter fatal disasters upon the treacher- 
ous ice, were of frequent occurrence. These ponds, being 
unprotected, were dangerous to staider persons. One 
night, in the darkness of winter, the passers-by heard 
shrieking sounds ; but the wind being high, and whistling 
through the scattered trees in the neighbouring clough, no 


I' 1 1 I I 1 n 

i I I ■!! T ■] i '". , ,,,.f,„ 

'>i;ii.'.h'!r ji-'i vT.i'iJTr(-'Miala 


Strangeways Hall. 1 9 

notice was taken. In the morning, however, an elderly 
dame was discovered in the water. Nearly half a century 
she had been known as a muffin-crier thereabouts, and 
wandering from the uncertain pathway, she had sunk into 
the pond. This incident has attracted the notice of a 
writer (Mr W. F. Peacock) in the Belgravia Magazine. It 
seems needless to add, save for the information of distant 
readers, that Strangeways Hall is now supplanted by the 
Assize Courts, while the once-green heritage surrounding 
it is covered by the County Gaol, several churches, many 
workshops, the poorhouse, the railway station, and dwell- 
ings too numerous to be counted. The Strangewaies' 
lands (now Earl Ducie's) are bounded by the Earl of 
Derby's, the division being indicated by lettered boun- 
dary stones. A line of demarcation is further drawn by 
the nomenclature of the neighbouring streets — Derby, 
Stanley, and Knowsley Streets dividing the honours with 
Great Ducie and Moreton Streets, supplemented by Ducie 

After the decadence or departure of its nobler families, — 
the Strangewaies, the Hartleys, the Reynoldses,— the Hall 
had various owners of less social distinction, the most 
popular being Lieutenant-Colonel Hanson. During his 
occupancy, in the opening years of the present century, 
the Park was frequently used by the members of his rifle 
corps for the exercise and improvement of their military 
talents. Whilst thus practising, in the summer of 1805, 
a fatal accident occurred. Two young gentlemen (cousins) 
named Faulkner were firing at a target, when one, pass- 
ing suddenly behind the centre, was shot by the other 
through the body. Apart from his military honours, 

20 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Colonel Hanson's favourite title was "The Weavers' 
Friend." So partial was he to that class of artisans, that 
he appended a silver shuttle to each side of his carriage. 
In 1809, he addressed a large meeting of weavers, advo- 
cating an advance in their wages, at which meeting a 
looker-on was shot at his own door by a dragoon during 
the dispersion of the crowd after the reading of the Riot 
Act. Considering the dangerous aspect of affairs, the 
fatality might have been greater. Here were present all 
the elepients of mischief \yhich ten years later rendered 
Peterloo notorious. Confronting and partly surrounding 
the \yeavers and their friend were the boroughreeve, the 
magistrates, the special constables, the runners (headed 
by the much-dreaded Joseph Nadin), supported by the 
soldiers, both cavalry and infantry. Ultimately the 
workmen withdrew from the ground without resisting, 
and the authorities exercised more forbearance than at 
Peterloo, — of which figld it was the evident precursor, 
the shadow of the coming event. The scene was "St 
George's Field," aiid an outline plan of the district reveals 
some curious points. The Colonel (or rather Mr Hanson, 
as he had previously resigned his commission) delivered 
his speech on horseback in Swan Street, and the thor- 
oughfare on his left hand is thus marked— "St George's 
Road (or Back Lane). To Rochdale." 

With the exception of a few dwellings near Newton 
Lane, labelled Five Houses, Pump Street, Lee Street, 
the ground appears a literal uncovered "Field" as far 
as St George's Church, which was usually designated St 
George's-in-the-Fields. A little way beyond figured the 
old coal-mine. If the query be put forth—" What of those 

Strangeways Hall. 2 1 

fields laow ? " a conclusive though silent answer might be 
found in the list of voters (eleven thousand, no less) for St 
Michael's Ward. Fields of commercial enterprise they 
have become, producing flowers of peculiar rhetoric, while 
the blades are other, and somewhat keener, than blades 
of grass. Even the church has succumbed to railway- 
exigencies. All this change, metamorphose, revolution, 
has taken place within sixty years. 

So much were the authorities of the town displeased 
with the proceedings of Colonel Hanson in favour of the 
congregated workmen, that at the ensuing Lancaster 
Assizes he was indicted for conspiracy, and sentenced to 
six months' imprisonment in the King's Bench, in addi- 
tion to a penalty of one hundred pounds. Soon after his 
liberation thirty-two thousand sons of the loom subscribed 
one penny each for the purchase of an elegant gold cup, 
which was presented to him at Strangeways Hall. This 
trophy was dearly earned by Mr Hanson : the imprison- 
ment he had suffered generated a disease of which he died, 
at the early age of thirty-seven, within two years of the 
date of his release. A very lengthy and imposing funeral 
procession accompanied his remains from Strangeways to 
the Unitarian Chapel (an ivymantled, plain brick struc- 
ture) at Stand, in Pilkington, where the interment took 
place, in September 181 1. The most striking ornament 
of his coffin was a shuttle, or the resemblance thereof 
The family tomb of the Hansons, neglected and decayed, 
disappeared from the graveyard about two years ago. 
Fortunately Mr Owen had previously copied its inscrip- 
tions, engraven on marble slabs, adorning the four sides 
of a square altar-tomb : — 

2 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" William Hanson, of Manchester, died 
December i, 1798, aged 69 years." 

" Joseph Hanson, son of William Hanson, 
Of Manchester, died September 3, 181 1, 
Aged 37 years." 

" Elizabeth Hanson, wife of Edward Hanson, 
Of Manchester, died March i, 1823, 
Aged 35 years." 

" Mary Hanson, wife of William Hanson, 
Of Manchester, died March 12, 1822, 
Aged 72 years." 

The entrance to the vault is still indicated, and at a 
little distance appears a flat stone bearing older dates, 
thus carrying backward the family history : — 

" In memory of Elizabeth, wife of William Hanson, 
who died August ye 29, 1769, aged 32. James, his 
son, who died May 3, 1787, aged 2 years and 6 months. 
Elizabeth, his daughter, who died November iB, 1787, 
aged 8 months. William, their son, who died March 3 1 , 
1 79 1, aged 13 years." 

A portrait of the Weavers' Friend, prefixed to his 
memoir, represents him with a scroll, labelled " Weavers' 
Petition," in his hand, while upon his breast appears a 
conspicuous scarf-pin, taking the form of a shuttle. The 
Colonel's father was a prosperous merchant, trading in 
Cannon Street. 

We have not alluded to Colonel Hanson's presentation 
at court, " when George the Third was King," nor to 
another presentation scene which enlivened St Ann's 
Square, when a splendid sword, pike, and pistols were 
given to him by the officers of his regiment ; neither have 

Strangeways Hall. 

we mentioned his "meet" with Mr Philips upon Kersal 
Moor. These prominent incidents in his eventful career 
have been treated in detail elsewhere. 

Surely there would be a popular ballad — a free-and- 
easy melody — to celebrate the glories, or mourn the 
demise, of this Manchester " man of the people." It 
were strange indeed if the thirty- two thousand weavers 
could not furnish one grateful minstrel to weave a lament 
for the martyred hero of the shuttle. If such poetic 
tribute was said or sung to our listening and admiring 
parents, can any reader of these Memorials supply a copy 
of the forgotten verses 1 

Upon the interior walls of Stand Chapel appear several 
monumental tablets, duly inscribed. Three of those 
inscriptions, interesting to Manchester people, may be 
suitably appended here : — 

" In memory of Robert Philips, of the Park, in this 
township, who died March 14th, 1844, aged 83 years; 
whose remains, as also those of Ann, his wife, who 
died March 12th, 1830, aged 57 years, are deposited 
in the family vault beneath this Chapel." 

" In memory of Anna Maria, wife of Robert Need- 
ham Philips, of the Park, in this township, who 
died on the 2d of April 1850, aged 32 years; whose 
remains, as also those of Anna Maria, her daughter, 
who died on the 24th of April 1850, aged I month, 
are deposited in the family vault beneath this 

" Sacred to the memory of Elizabeth Leigh Philips, 
daughter of Robert and Ann Philips, who died 
May 8th, 1824, aged 15 years. Also, of her twin 
sister, Jessy Ann, who survived 6 months only, and 
was interred at Snitterfield, Warwickshire." 

24 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" Then let us timely for our flight prepare, 
And form the soul for her divine abode ; 
Obey the call, and trust the Leader's care 

To bring us safe through virtue's path to God." 



' ' Then deawn Lung Millgate we did steer. " 

A. Wilson. 

Z'"* AN the history of a town be better written than in the 
^-^ stories of its principal streets — the scenes of its in- 
teresting events, the homesteads of its bygone worthies .' 

In one of a series of articles appearing in the Guardian 
during the year 1864, entitled "Manchester in Holiday 
Dress," was presented a brief history of Long Millgate, 
To that account sundry points of information and expe- 
rience may now be added, completing the subject. To 
citizens familiar with the locality it scarcely need be told 
that, for most useful or ornamental purposes, this street — 
ruthlessly cut into many pieces — has been virtually dead 
several years, only requiring to be put decently out of 
sight. Yet such suitable interment is surrounded by 
difficulties, as the city architects and surveyors can 
affirm. Devise their new roads as skilfully as they may, 
there are usually unseemly corners to the front, and un- 
sightly blocks in the rear, which mock their utmost 
ability; and prove that art is still a mere baby in the 
arms of our perfect mother — Nature. To this rule Long 
Millgate forms no exception. Lying thus lifeless (when 

26 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

compared with its former jovial selQ and unburied, a few- 
facts scattered over its remains may serve instead of 
flowers to keep its memory sweet, if not verdant. Some 
far-seeing people predict a revival of life and prosperity 
to the street, chiefly through the medium of the adjacent 
railway station, the enlarged Grammar School, or the 
more distant Assize Courts ; but we are not very san- 
guine as regards such resurrection. When Ichabod is 
plainly written upon a devoted place, its glories seldom 

Our review may as well commence at the site of the 
Old Apple-Market, at the corner of Fennel Street, not 
forgetting the attractive tavern-sign of an apple-tree in 
full bearing, which formerly met the view at this point. 
Everything surrounding the fruit area has been modern- 
ised, even to the church, save and except the remnant of 
antiquity shown in our woodcut. 

One of the earliest names we have encountered in 
immediate connection with this street is that of " Richard 
of the Mylnegate," anno 1 342. The next in point of time 
runs thus: — "1596, October i. — William, sonne of Ellize 
ffarrar, drowned at Mylne Brig." 

The Court Leet book of 1583 notifies the sale of a- bur- 
gage in the Mylnegate, with the common oven belonging 
thereto, certain rent and service being due to the lord of 
the manor. It is more than likely that this public oven 
gave name to Bakehouse Court, still existent. 

Amongst the notables once residing in Long Millgate 
may be named Mr Charles Lawson, whose connection with 
the Free Grammar School, beginning as usher, and ending 
as high master, continued during the long period of fifty- 

Long Millgate. ■ 27 

eight years. As a premier dominie he made his mark, 
which is still visible, and will not be soon eradicated. 
One of his rhyming scholars has designated him "Mill- 
gate's flogging Turk." De Quincey, likewise, remembered 
him with a bitter feeling, toned down in his later writings ; 
but the majority of Mr Lawson's pupils regarded him 
with warm approval. Mr Lawson's interesting mansion 
is represented in our title-page vignette. The date of its 
removal was 1835 > its site being now covered by the 
new Grammar School. Finding the printed authorities 
at variance touching Mr Lawson's age and time of de- 
cease, we have taken counsel with the original Collegiate 
register: — "1807, April 27. — Buried, Charles Lawson, Esq., 
aged 79. In the choir. Cause of death, Old age." Referring 
to his declining years, the mentor has been described by 
another of his scholars as " a nice old gentleman, and 
remarkably quiet, with a large bushy white wig and a 
clerical hat." 

Nearly opposite to Mr Lawson's pictorial dwelling, and 
visible many years after that house and the worthy peda- 
gogue had both disappeared, stood some heavy, ungainly 
domiciles, which we passed and repassed during fifty 
years without being fascinated by their outv/ard appear- 
ance. In such cases, if love do not come at the first 
sight, it seldom arrives at all; and somehow, although 
their antiquity was apparent at a glance, it failed to 
charm us. 

The number of their years, or rather centuries, has been 
variously put forth. Mr James Wheeler, in his well- 
written commercial history of the town, states that Lord 
de la Warre, in the reign of Edward the Third, brought to 

28 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

England a number of Flemish weavers, and that some 
of the ingenious strangers abode in the row here indi- 
cated ; while another authority considers the buildings 
were not older than the sixteenth century. The question 
need not be mooted further, as the cluster was taken down 
in the summer of 1872; and in thus preserving their 
departed features we pay to them at least posthumous 
respect. Latterly they had formed a house-and-shop 
compromise, — a combination of business and privacy, — 
embodying a wish for utility with little regard for orna- 
ment. At the date of our present writing, their place is 
still vacant, the ancient ground being as yet uncovered 
by new erections. 

Probably the oldest building remaining in our dilapi- 
dated street is the Sun Inn and Poet's Corner, which has 
been a well-conducted tavern as far back as its history 
can be traced. But latterly, growing rakish in its dotage, 
its good character as a public entertainer was forfeited, 
and the license consequently withdrawn. More recently 
the ancient hostelry wore a novel appearance, being 
divided into two homely shops, one appealing to the 
mind in the form of books, the other tempting our grosser 
nature with cakes and sweetmeats. Alas for the Man- 
chester Helicon, once the high temple of our Muses! 
We have a pleasant remembrance of the Poet's Corner 
when a real republic of letters (not a monarchical arrange- 
ment of king, lords, and commons) were wont to assemble 
within its walls. 

The late Joseph Perrin, in his pleasing story of the 
" Green Mantle," states that in his youth he paid several 
visits, timidly and reverently, to the Sun Inn. With the 

L ong Millgate. 2 9 

building he expresses satisfaction ; but his disappoint- 
ment was great when the poets of his imagination 
were not to be found ; and he hints that the nectar 
there inhaled was redolent of the mountain-dew. Per- 
haps the bards resembled Thomson, in being "more fat 
than bard beseems," rather than interestingly pale, and 
leaden-eyed with much study, as Hood described Eugene 
Aram. Evidently Master Perrin, forgetful of the proverb 
touching appearances, was a believer in the magni- 
ficent theory that the soul invariably chooses her own 
meet tenement, never obscuring her pure radiant light 
within a dim unwinsome lantern. Had Joseph Perrin 
not met with a further disappointment, in his vain 
search for health along the Cornwall coast, he might 
have lived to qualify, in some measure, his poetical 

Standing upon the steps of the Sun Inn, only the 
narrow street divides us from Chetham's College, — 
another structure of age and interest. In addition to the 
noteless multitude who have received their early education 
at this popular institution, several local authors have 
been trained within its walls, and have left brief records 
of their experience as young collegians. In this list 
may be included Benjamin Stott, once our bookbinder- 
poet, and now the forgotten holder in fief of a green 
grave at Northenden. 

Of Chetham's College we thought we had elsewhere 
"said our say;" but its memories are so manifold, the 
phases of thought suggested are so various, that the 
last word concerning it can scarcely ever be written. 

So far back as the year 1825 Benjamin Stott was 

Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

wearing the blue coat and cap peculiar to the place; 
at which date another friend of ours became a candidate 
for admission, but failed to secure the scholarship. It 
was the opinion of his mother that four or five years' 
tuition at college, with a collegiate residence in addition 
thereto, would prove very advantageous to her eldest 
son ; consequently her attention became riveted on the 
valuable institution founded by Humphrey Chetham' in 
the year of grace 165 1, for the education, maintenance, 
and apprenticeship of boys requiring a start in life. On 
the election-day in question, Easter Monday, the sun 
shone with a brightness that seemed propitious as they 
proceeded to the spacious yard in front of the College. 
The scene of action was thronged with people from 
various parts of the county, to many of whom, as to 
the said mother and son, the day was all-important, but 
by far the greater number had congregated to gaze with 
minor interest on the proceedings, and to return with 
the gratification of merely an idle curiosity. Of course 
the influx of country visitors made a harvest for the 
neighbouring taverns, of which there was no lack. A 
merry peal of restless feet enlivened the Ring o' Bells ; 
the Pack Horse found comfort under his heavy burden ; 
the Black-a-Moor's Head looked radiant in the holiday 
sunshine ; and the Flying Horse expanded his gilded 
wings. Even the College Inn was remembered, while 
inspecting the gloomy and discarded dungeon at its 
side. The blue-coated inmates of the institution, mingling 
with the crowd, were briskly disposing of their college- 
balls and other contrivances of their leisure hours. 
The present race of young collegians may pay more 

Long Mitigate. 3 1 

regard to the proprieties, — may be more circumspect 
in their general behaviour, — but the last generation was 
certainly merrier, with a greater profusion of pocket- 
money to boot. 

When the election commenced, the candidates and their 
guardians were ranged against an outer wall, and loudly 
summoned in turn to undergo examination in the interior. 
After two or three hours of anxious suspense, our friend's 
ticket, missing all the prizes, resulted in a blank, his 
mother's visions of student life being thus dispersed well- 
nigh as soon as formed. 

Long after that contest, and when the defeat had grown 
into an old remembrance, our friend paid the first of many 
visits to the Chetham Library. Book in hand, he entered 
the antique reading-room, — the favourite resort of our 
local writers and antiquaries, grateful records of whose 
visits are scattered through divers volumes and bygone 
magazines. The portrait of the founder (with which all 
Mancestrians are so familiar) hung, as it still hangs, on 
the carved and gilded mantel, appropriately surrounded 
by the pictures of other Lancashire worthies. About a 
dozen persons were seated at their ease, some reading 
near the glowing and ample fire, while others were writing 
upon quaint desks and tables, or studying near the carved 
cabinets. He endeavoured to follow their example in a 
snug recess, with painted glass windows, that overlooked 
the playground. But his mind would not rest with his 
book ; his eyes wandered to the novelties around him, and 
his thoughts were as travellers with many memories. 

Of the few benevolent foundations whose present work- 
ings would gratify the founders, Chetham's Hospital and 

32 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Library are entitled to rank with the foremost. Further, 
the lowly old edifice may be justly prized for its romantic 
and historical associations. To the thoughtful gazer it 
may serve as a touchstone of reverie, and to the bard as 
his spirit of song. 

In this old-fashioned retreat, if anywhere, a disliker of 
change might hope for exemption from its innovations. 
In most particulars the ancient feeling and practice have 
been preserved, but the election-day presents an altered 
scene. It is no longer an outdoor display, attracting a 
motley concourse of people or a colony of trading boys. 
As they arrive, the applicants are now accommodated 
with seats in the building, being quietly summoned to the 
council-charriber in due order. Of tlie once- famous college- 
balls, worked purses, and bijauterie of beads, not a vestige 
remains. Of the outer world, now and then an inquisitive 
loiterer will stand peering at the street entrance ; but he 
soon pursues his business track, for nothing is to be seen 
except a decayed widow leading her little son in silence to 
his trial, or a stately feoffee, who, pacing leisurely up the 
yard, proceeds to discuss the merits of the candidates, 
and the more agreeable virtues of the customary election- 

Of the various parties who aim at Chetham College and 
miss their mark, some are content to bide their time until 
another election gives them an opportunity of conquering 
their fate, or of submitting once more to its adverse decree ; 
others, with less patience, seek elsewhere for scholarships 
of minor value. 

For further memorials of the worthy and fortunate 
Humphrey, the reader may wisely refer to the Appendix 

Long Miilgate. 33 

to the present volume. Therein Mr Crossley discourses 
eloquently and at large upon the manifold peculiarities of 
the rare Chetham Library ; whilst Mr Croston, turning his 
active foot from the '' Peak," and leaving the home of 
Florence Nightingale to its sweet seclusion, has brought 
his practised pen to bear in summarising the history of 
Manchester and its noblest benefactors. His notice of 
Humphrey Chetham is accompanied by an interesting 
view of that worthy's birthplace — Crumpsall Hall. Of 
this hall and its destiny we have been favoured with 
further information by a friendly resident of Cheethara 
Hill village — Mr Robert Wood. We quote from one of 
Mr Wood's occasional contributions to the literature of 
the district : — 

" The house in which he was born was situated at the 
front of Bank Villas, in the garden formed by the junction 
of Humphrey Street with the Crescent Road, and perhaps 
two hundred yards from the coach-office, Cheetham Hill. 
It was a substantial, oak-framed building, without any 
pretensions to beauty, and was perhaps built about the 
time of Henry the Seventh. 

" There was no brick or stone used in its construction, 
except in the foundations, the chimneys, and the kitchen 
gable, but the timbers were of the most massive kind, and 
even the stair-steps were made of solid blocks of oak, and 
the hand-rail was almost as large as an ordinary beam in 
these degenerate days of building. 

"Most houses of that date had what was called a priest's 

hole, or a secret hiding-place, where a Roman Catholic 

family in Queen Elizabeth's time would conceal a priest, 

or a Protestant family would hide their valuables in unset- 


34 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

tied times, or even a friend who may have fallen under the 
displeasure of the authorities. 

" This house was no exception to the rule, and when it 
was being taken down, a secret stairway was discovered in 
the kitchen gable, which led to a small chamber in the 
roof. This stairway and chamber were quite unknown for 
several generations past. 

"Humphrey's oldest brother, James, succeeded his father 
as the owner and occupier of the house, and it remained in 
the hands of his family for two or three generations. It 
then came into the hands of a family named Barlow, pro- 
bably the descendants of Alexander Barlow, from Barlow's 
Court, who was one of the trustees of Humphrey Chetham's 
will ; and about one hundred and twenty years ago there 
was a gentleman named Thomas Barlow living at the 
house, and owning a considerable portion of the land in 
the neighbourhood. After his time the property appears 
to have been divided and subdivided among his descen- 
dants, and the only property now remaining in the family 
is the Bird-in-Hand public-house, but the old house was 
occupied by the Barlow family till it was pulled down. 

"About fifty years ago the house was so ruinous that it 
was taken down to make room for the present Bank Villas ; 
and the ground is so levelled and altered, that no one 
would suspect that ever a house of such note had been 
standing so long in that situation." 

Adjacent to the College Gate lived and died the clerical 
original, Joshua Brookes. His house, situated next door 
to the primitive Grammar School, was taken down about 
Christmas 1873. The upright male figure represented in 
our engraving is standing at Mr Brookes's iron gate. 


pC-^^rtVt^^^^^TV^V f^ >^>f^ n-l - lliL_n 

36 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

six rooms on each floor, and with a large garden attached. 
A much larger mansion, boasting three names, was thus 
announced for disposal in Whitworth's Manchester Maga- 
zine for i'j£^'j-df% : — " Situate in the Milngate, Old Greave 
Hall, or Langley Hall, or Culcheth Hall, converted into 
several dwellings, with garden and ten acres of land." As 
a printed authority places this old mansion in the neigh- 
bourhood of Newton Lane, Mr Whitworth's unique adver- 
tisement may serve to correct the small error.* A corrobo- 
rative entry may be read in the parochial register : — " 1616, 
Julie 2. — Robert Langley, of y' Mylngate, gent, buried." 
Mr Langley, an active person in his day, was appointed 
by his fellow-townsmen in 1578 as boroughreeve. After- 
ward, he removed two stiles in Assheley Fields (now 
Ashley Lane), but was ordered by the Court Leet to 
restore them to their accustomed places. On the other 
handj he cited Mr Thomas Strangewaies for obstructing 
the ancient footpath through Walker's Croft to Stony 
" Knowles," the said footpath leading usefully to Mr 
Langley's mill and tanpits on the bank of the Irk. 

In 1 76 1 (the name of the thoroughfare being then varied 
to the present mode of spelling), another large house, with 
garden and stable attached, was advertised to be sold or 
let. The last important family residing in Long Millgate 
were the Haworths, — a name preserved to us until very 
recently by " Haworth's Gates," a narrow passage which 
was stopped up and enclosed by order of the City Council 
in September 1868. It was at this point that Alexander 
Wilson sketched, in the year 1821, the Lancashire Rush- 

* There was a Culcheth Hall near Warrington, another at Newton Heath. 

Long Millgate. 37 

bearing which forms the frontispiece to the present volume. 
The canvas, as will be observed, is studded with character- 
istic figures, inclusive of the artist himself (his bandaged 
foot requiring temporary crutches), the Rev. Joshua 
Brookes, and Gentleman Cooper, the tall, enthusiastic 
pedestrian who walked to Doncaster and home again, 
during forty successive years, for the pleasure of witness- 
ing the exciting race for the St Leger stakes. In addi- 
tion to these, there is Mr John Ogden, the grocer, vig- 
netted through his shop window, and a full-length portly 
boniface in the centre, Mr Henry Slater, of the Bay Horse 

Haworth's Gates led originally to the garden, orchard, 
and recreation fields at the rear of the building, and upon 
the site of the present Balloon Street. 

There bloomed the latest flowers, if not the latest plots 
of green sward, known to Long Millgate. It is certain 
those rural attributes were visible in 1782, when the Man- 
chester Military Association were here trained to the use 
of arms; and likewise in 1785, when the elder Sadler 
twice ascended from the spot in the first English balloon. 
A few notes of family history will lend variety to our 
narrative. In 1759 Mr Abraham Haworth died "at his 
house in Milngate." The name previously occurs in the 
baptismal registers of 1699, 1701, and 1703. Further 
information is afforded by a lengthy inscription on a flat 
stone within, the Cathedral : the principal portion is here 
transcribed : — 

" Here lie the remains of Abraham Haworth, Merch*- 
in Manchester, obit July 26, 1759, aged 76. Sarah, 
his wife, obit May 27th, 17 19, aged 44. John 

38 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Haworth, Esq'- departed this life Dec*"- 4, 1786, 
aged 74. Mary, wife of John Haworth, Esq'- 
dau"- to Richard Bagshaw, Esq'- of Oakes, in 
Derbyshire, who died Jan^- 13, I77S, aged 62." 

During the summer of the latter year a daughter of Mr 
John Haworth was married to the Hon. Edward Percival, 
brother to the Eari of Egmont; and, six years subse- 
quently, another daughter of his was united to Mr Law- 
rence Peel. In 1794, the palisaded home of the Haworths, 
having passed into other hands, was conducted as an inn, 
the Manchester Arms, which sign is still retained. On 
the^ ceiling of a shop nearly opposite to this inn might 
be seen, until very lately, the representations of an Eagle 
and Child, and Three Legs of Man, in oval compartments 
of plaster, besides a border of fruit and flowers, also in 
plaster. Similar ornaments, we believe, decorated the ceil- 
ings of the upper rooms. No definite reason can now be 
given for these unusual embellishments, but it is surmised, 
that the house has been in some way connected with the 
Derby family. This is probable enough, as, in addition to 
the gentry already mentioned, our registers prove the resi- 
dence in "ye Mylnegate" of branches of the Mosleys and 
the Leighs of High Leigh during the three centuries last 

Just a century ago, two announcements appeared in. 
which reference was made to the Rood's Gutter, or Gutter 
of the Cross, in Long Millgate. Here was an antiquarian 

* The question is thus set at rest by HoUingworth : — "Anno 1572, by 
inquisition vppon oath it was allso found that the Earle of Derby had 
purchased of the Prince, Over Allport, and three burgages in the Milnegate 
and Fenelestreete, being chauntry lands." 

Long Millgate. 39 

mystery to which no key could be found, until one day pur 
local Jonathan Oldbuck, while watching the progress of 
some excavations near Barlow's Yard, discovered the base 
of a cross, and so the problem was to a certain extent 
solved. The shaft had vanished so long ago that no trace 
of it was remembered ; but the owner of the ground re- 
moved the base to his garden. Barlow's Cross is repeat- 
edly mentioned in the early volumes of our parish register. 
At the outlet of the Rood's Gutter, on the bank of the Irk, 
there was, in 1770, a small rookery, — an item of informa- 
tion given on the authority of Aston. 

A sad accident occurred hereabouts • in July 1834. 
Three shops, situated at the corner of Ducie Bridge, 
opposite to the Crown and Shuttle, suddenly fell, killing 
two boys and a girl. 

On the 17th of November 1829 — being Dirt Fair Day — 
a young Millgateer, named Thomas Foster, was acciden- 
tally shot on Blackfriars Bridge, while lingering a moment 
to witness a quarrel. The offender, a commission agent, 
was committed to Lancaster Castle on a charge of wilful 
murder. At the Assizes next ensuing, the jury returned a 
verdict of not guilty. 

About the centre of the Millgate, and near to the 
residence of the Wilsons who wrote the dialectic songs, 
dwelt one of our local artists, George Hayes. Although 
born at Dighton, near Huddersfield, about the year 1820, 
the embryo painter was brought hither in childhood, and 
here his parents remained to the close of their lengthened 
existence. The exigencies of his art may have bound Mr 
Hayes to distant and more picturesque scenes, yet family 
ties have retained him as a frequent visitor to this locality. 

40 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

A well-known resident of this street during several 
years was Richard Baines, composer and singer of comic 
ballads, and boon companion in general. His musical 
rhymes were published in 1844, under the title of "The 
Budget of Comicalities." Seven years later appeared a 
second edition. One of these humorous strains may be 
selected as a fair example of his cantering style, which 
never passed the comprehension of the multitude. It was 
a popular favourite, set to music by a local composer of 
note ; and whenever, like Dr Watts, Baines took his walks 
abroad, he had the pleasure of hearing his song whistled . 
aloud or chaunted in hearty chorus. 


" In Manchester, this famous town, 
What great improvements have been made, sirs ; 
In fifty years 'tis mighty grown, 
All owing to success in trade, sirs ; 
For see what mighty buildings rising. 
To all beholders how surprising ; 
The plough and harrow are now forgot, sirs, 
'Tis coals and cotton boil the pot, sirs. 

Sing Ned, sing Joe, and Frank so gaily, 
Manchester's improving daily. 

" A few years since some cotton spinners 
Settled here as new beginners ; 
Small rooms they filled with mules and jennies. 
Which spun their shillings soon to guineas ; 
And now in coaches grand they drive, sirs, 
With livery servants all alive, sirs ; 
Observe that horse, that pretty wheeler, 
'Tis called from Bess, The Bonny Reeler. 

L ong Millgate. 4 1 

" Our cotton fame spread far and near, 
And crowds of people soon came here, 
To devil-tent, and spin, and card, 
And earn their bread by labour hard ; 
The Paddies they thronged across the water. 
To sell their pigs and carry mortar ; 
And many a dandy in swell togs, sirs, 
Came here in boots that now wears clogs, sirs. 

" In our old Church, when Joshua Brookes 
Had care of aU the keys and books, 
And Patten Nat o'er graves so narrow 
Wheeled a consecrated barrow ; * 
In those good days, whoe'er could dream 
That parsons now would preach by steam ? 
Besides, they do such dandies grow, then 
You only in the pulpit know them. 

" In course of time the bells will ring 
Got up by steam, so neat the thing ; 
And as man is cut down like a flower, 
They'll scheme to bury him by power ! 

* Of " Patten Nat " we find a brief record in our Directory dated 1788 : — 
"Nathan Wood, patten maker, Hanging Bridge." The scrap-book at 
Chetham's Library contains his full-length portrait, slightly caricatured. 
Beneath the picture appear the following random lines : — 

** Patten Nat is grown so fat 
That he can hardly walk ; 
And he's come here to drink strong beer. 
And hear those puppies talk." 

An anecdote of Nathan, though far from new, may be worth repeating, the 
latest version being preferred for its brevity : — Having occasion to use a 
barrow, he went to borrow one belonging to the church. Taking a near cut, 
on his return, over the gravestones, instead of keeping to the path, he 
received a smart blow from behind, given by the eccentric Joshua Brookes, 
and accompanied by the words, " How dare you wheel that barrow over con- 
secrated ground ? " Nat answered, "I thought the barrow was consecrated 
and allj as I borrowed it from the sexton ! " Nathan Wood died in 1804, of 
consumption, at the age of fifty-three. 

42 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

For steam it has such wonders wrought, 
And things to such perfection brought, 
We chance may see, if they carry the farce on, 
A metal church and cast-iron parson. 

" We've iron lords and cotton majors, 
And we have lots of spies and gangers ; 
There's plenty, too, of daily bread. 
But the teeth are taxed that are in your head ; 
We've fops and swells not worth a farthing, 
And hundreds, too, there are, that's starving ; 
Just see our hungry hand-loom weavers, . 
Their hair, like hay, grows through their beavers. 

" There's one thing more I needs must mention. 
It is that wonderful invention 
The railway, where you go by power, 
At the rate of thirty miles an hour ; 
Where waggons go without a team. 
And coaches, too, that fly by steam ; 
They say it does provisions cheapen, 
In fish, pigs' heads, and Irish bacon. 

Sing Ned, sing Joe, and Frank so gaily, 
Manchester's improving daily." 

It will be seen that Baines's song, resembling many- 
successful singing ditties, will not bear the test of critical 
reading. We were tempted to a little abbreviation in 
certain parts, but there is just now such a loud outcry 
against adulterations and mutilations of all kinds, that we 
retain the original version as the safest course. 

In his preface, "The Lancashire Poet," as Mr Baines 
confidently styled himself, thus addressed the public : — 
"The pleasure of pleasing has ever been a gratifying 
sensation to me, through a long, and, I may say, success- 

Long Mitigate. 43 

ful career as a comic singer ; and it is this feeling that has 
induced me to publish this collection of songs. There is 
another reason ; — many of my brother professional singers 
have tauntingly said, that I dare not publish my songs — 
fearing that others would sing them better than myself. 
But this I do not believe ; for with the productions here 
offered to the public I have amused thousands of laugh- 
ter-loving people, and never in any one instance failed. 
There may be errors found in this collection — perhaps too 
many to meet the eye of the literary critic ; but let it be 
remembered I am but a self-taught child of Nature, and 
many, or most of these songs have been written amidst 
the privations, buffetings, and storms of a life of trouble ; 
and as it has been the practice of parties, for years past, 
to apply to me for written copies, which was troublesome 
to me and expensive to them, I thought the best plan 
would be to publish them in a cheap edition, so that the 
wishes of my numerous friends may be gratified." 

Richard Baines died about twenty-two years ago, and 
was buried in a nameless grave at the lower end of Har- 
purhey Cemetery. He had passed to the shady side of 
sixty. Nameless, and even flowerless, though his grave 
may be, he has there found the sweet forgetfulness of 
sorrow — the mystical waters of oblivion — for which Zadok 
so earnestly sought 

At the northern extremity of Long Millgate, in Red 
Bank, we witnessed, many years ago, the last specimen 
of bull-baiting exhibited in this part of England. The 
cruel sport was considered an attractive addition to the 
usual programme of the wakes — surpassing the charms of 
the sack-race, the smock-steeplechase, the bolting of the 

44 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

hot porridge, the swarming of the greasy pole, or the 
genuine Tim Bobbin feat of grinning through a horse- 
collar. The bull, during one of his wild plunges, broke 
loose, and tossed some of his tormentors, Sancho Panza 
hke, into the air. Although no friendly blanket inter- 
vened, as at the Spanish inn, there occurred no serious 

In our Directory for 1794, we read of "Phoebe Fletcher, 
Old Iron Foundery, 2 Foundery Lane, Red Bank." This 
lane, converted to a street, is familiar enough; but the 
foundry whence the name was derived has vanished so 
long ago that its memory is faded away, and some persons 
may be curious to know the date of its existence. The 
original proprietor, Mr John Fletcher, died in 1785. 

During many years towards the close of the last and 
the beginning of the present century, the Manchester race- 
list, sometimes profusely illustrated with small character- 
istic cuts, was printed in Long Millgate by John Pratt. 
One of the sons of this worthy typographer afterwards 
made the family name familiar to our townsmen by the 
publication of moral, religious, and miscellaneous litera- 
ture. During his long career, Mr Joseph Pratt printed 
and partly edited a variety of serial works, inclusive of 
"The Scrap-Book" and "The Protestant Witness." So 
widely had he diverged from his father's early course as 
a printer of race-lists, that he would not, in his later years, 
set-up or circulate any matter of an immoral or uncon- 
stitutional tendency. Such conscientious trading, though 
praiseworthy in the highest degree, prevented his rising 
in the world. As a rule, the public, bearing a strong 
resemblance to a spoiled child, does not feel grateful to 

Long Millgate. 45 

its improvers. Give it sugar, it will caress you ; shake 
the rod at its naughtiness, and soon, with a frown, it will 
shrink away. Mr Joseph Pratt died in November 1859, 
after an illness which confined him to his room several 
months. He had passed the allotted term of threescore 
years and ten. 

Many persons will be surprised to hear that Long 
Millgate extends from the Cathedral at Manchester 
even unto the border of Scotland. Yet such is the fact, 
literally, though not virtually. The elongated street 
terminates on the south bank of the Irk, where the turbid 
stream is spanned by Scotland Bridge, and upon the 
northern side of the river lies a region dedicated to the 
thistle and the broom. Touching the origin of its singular 
nomenclature we have no information to offer. Did the 
Picts and Scots found a colony here while harassing the 
natives ? or did Prince Charlie pitch a tent for his High- 
landers, christening the place Scotland in order to make 
his friends feel more at home ? Neither Hume nor 
Robertson deigns to enlighten us on this dark point. No 
claymores have been dug up within the range of our 
recollection, and the only philibegs discovered belong to 
the wandering pipers. Our earliest fact by way of 
elucidation is of a simple domestic nature. In 1762 a 
messuage, divided into two dwellings, "in Manchester, at 
a place called Scotland," was advertised to be let, at a 
yearly rental of ten guineas. Before emerging from the 
Scottish difficulty, and while surveying our chart in quest 
of the next object of interest, we find that only a narrow 
strait — the Irk — divides us from Gibraltar. The globe 
seems to have got out of gear hereabouts : possibly Atlas 

46 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

let it slip from his brawny shoulders. At all events, the 
geographical calculation is rendered as perplexing as the 
counting of Dundreary's fingers. There is nothing to 
explain the presence of the Spanish headland, or rather 
of its name, in this back settlement. So we turn from the 
confusion of such foreign affairs, and gladly surmount the 
plain English acclivity termed Red Bank. 

The origin of a well-known taverh-sign upon this 
mount is shown in the Directory of 1797 — "George 
Metcalf, florist and victualler, Flower Pott, 6 Red Bank." 
Prior to that date the sign was the Wheat Sheaf. 

Of the dwellers — be they gentle or simple — in Red Bank 
or in Long Millgate, few have established a better claim 
to remembrance than Job Hindley. " Many a year," as 
we may truly echo, " is in its grave " since the writer of 
this note first met Job. It was in the rainless summer of 
1826, at which distant date the loss of his arm was a new 
misfortune. He continued to reside in the same neighbour- 
hood until 1872, when he removed to Southport for the 
benefit of his health. " Well done, Job," he might have 
exclaimed, in the words of John Bannister on quitting the 
stage ; " half a century is not bad." In Job's case a sud- 
den misfortune resulted in a permanent blessing. Had no 
accident befallen him in youth, he would probably have 
passed through life as one of the countless everyday 
workers, who merely eat, drink, and make merry, leaving 
the world neither better nor worse than they found it. 
But the loss of his right arm (while working for a firm of 
calenderers in Tib Street) forcing him from his original 
trade, he then adopted a new and more lucrative line of 
business — the dressing of substantial tripe, the preparation 

Long Millgale. ■ 47 

of nutritious cowheel. This course he pursued with sin- 
gular success, until at length he chose to retire upon his 
gains. Tact and energy in the accumulation of his means 
have been supplemented by wisdom and goodness in the 
distribution thereof. Finding himself in the possession of 
a thousand pounds which he could spare, he presented that 
sum-(reserving'the interest) to the Manchester Royal Infir- 
mary, in return for important services rendered gratui- 
tously in his youth. By this timely act of benevolence he 
secured while living the good-will and warm eulogies of 
his fellows, which posthumous donors receive upon their 
tombstones only. Subsequently, with an additional five 
hundred pounds, he presented a lifeboat to the Royal 
National Lifeboat Institution, the station assigned to it 
being Seaton Carew, Durham. These judicious presents 
were publicly acknowledged in the Town Hall of his native 
city on Friday, December 19, 1873. Taken in its entirety, 
that was a proud day for the residents of Red Bank and 
Long Millgate — an honest pride, which was manifested as 
they stood at their doors or gazed from their windows. 
As " The Job Hindley " lifeboat was drawn triumphantly 
along, his neighbours waved their hands and raised their 
cheering voices. The display was for Job, though not 
solely ; the triumph was his, but not alone. As the 
colours waved upon the masts, and the music played, 
announcing the coming of the conquering hero, we shared 
the glow of his " blushing honours." Notwithstanding his 
prosperity and local fame, Job remains simple and unas- 
suming, easy and natural, in every way. Assuredly, he 
has never lived at Landes, where the people move mostly 
upon stilts, and where, mayhap, the stilts are sometimes 

48 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

gilded. We may hope the milder atmosphere of the Meols 
will preserve him in health and usefulnesss to a venerable 
age ; but, depart when he may, Job Hindley has carved 
his epitaph in the hearts of his townsmen, and it will be 
sufficient for his marine friends to write his obituary, like 
Timon's, in the sands of the seashore. 


Thus far had we written one month ago, little anticipat- 
ing that in so brief a space of time we should read our 
" auld neibor's " name upon his coffin-plate, within a deep 
vault, at Cheetham Hill Cemetery. A throng of sympa- 
thisers flocked, unbidden, to pay their last respects to his 
memory. The day was beautifully fine for March ; and 
after the interment of Job, many lingered with the lettered 
stones around, drawing each other's attention to the 
rapidly-increasing number of inscriptions, and feeling, 
meanwhile, that the generation to which we truly belonged 
lay at our feet, their places in the world being filled by a 
younger race, with whom we hold little in common. The 
youthful look hopefully before them, while the elders look 
regretfully behind. In bidding farewell to Job Hindley, 
we would suggest for his epitaph the concluding verse of 
the " Burial Song for a Good Man," written by the Rev. 
William Gaskell : — 

" Huts where poor men sat distressed, 
Homes where death had darkly passed, 
Beds where suffering breathed its last, — 
These he sought, and soothed, and blessed. 

" Hoping, trusting, lay him down ! 
Many in the realms above 
Look for him with eyes of love, 
Wreathing his immortal crown ! " 

Long Millgate. 49 

The remains of Mr Hindley, who died at Southport, rest 
in the same vault where those of his wife were deposited 
wellnigh twenty years before. The words upon his coffin- 
plate were, "Job Hindley, died i8th March 1874, "aged 6Z 
years." Just prior to his decease he had the gratification 
of hearing that his lifeboat, in its first exploit at sea, had 
been the means of rescuing eleven sailors, and he promptly 
forwarded five pounds to be divided amongst the crew. 
In addition to private legacies, Mr Hindley left by his will 
nearly three thousand pounds to public charities, as thus — 
Manchester Infirmary, one thousand pounds ; Barnes Con- 
valescent Home, five hundred pounds ; St Mary's Hospi- 
tal, three hundred and fifty pounds ; Eye Hospital, three 
hundred and fifty pounds ; Lock Hospital, two hundred 
and fifty pounds ; Deaf and Dumb Institution, Old Traf- 
ford, two hundred and fifty pounds ; Southport Convales- 
cent Hospital, two hundred and fifty pounds. 




" At a bookseller's stall 
I was sure to call 
In my younger days," 


T T will be our endeavour, throughout this series of 
-■- personal recollections — variegated, strengthened, and 
cemented by historical data — to exhibit as much of the 
show and as little of the showman as possible. We have 
frequently, from childhood to within a recent date, 
witnessed the gambols of Punch and Judy ; and those 
early and abiding favourites have taught us such service- 
able lesson. Yet once, yea, twice, in our time we have 
seen the head belonging to the oracular voice peering 
above the sacred curtain; and the other day, almost as 
yesterday, the oracle issued forth bodily, bearing in his 
hand the box which had gathered in its round a solitary 
penny, and he appealed to his audience, if it were an 
English audience, to show an English sense of justice. 
He upbraided us for fostering foreign airs to the detriment 
of native graces ; and reminded us, in conclusion, that he 
had gladdened our childhood when we had nothing but 
our smiles to bestow in return. But where are we wander- 

Smithfield Market and its Vicinity. 5 1 

ing, pray ? as an old man asked of a maiden in the arch 
song of the archer Madame Vestris. Our present business 
lies mainly with the bookworm feature of our city, and we 
must not linger, howsoever lovingly, with Punch and Judy, 
albeit they are far from being aliens in the streets of 
Manchester. Latterly, we must admit, the queer auto- 
matons seldom exhibit in the public ways for chance 
recompense. Finding their reception grew colder, even in 
the sunshine, they have wisely retreated to the warm wel- 
come and certain payment of the casinos and the singing 
galleries. The moral of our episode will be apparent. If 
at any time we appear obtrusive, the exigency of our 
position will be in fault, rather than any lack of innate 

So now to our book-hunting. "To poor lovers of 
literature," observes a writer in the Quarterly Review, 
"these bookstalls are as tables spread in a wilderness;" 
and many a sympathetic spirit^ will echo the sentiment. 
We have kindred feelings and memories of our own. One 
afternoon, when business was not busy, and when the 
golden number would have indicated all our years, we 
strolled with our tonsorial governor through Smithfield 
Market. The market was younger even than ourselves — 
a mere baby in petticoats — presenting a very different 
aspect to the huge bazaar, framed and glazed, which we are 
now accustomed to see. It was opened to the public in May 
1822. Entirely exposed to the elements, weather-beaten 
in all directions, its sturdy infancy knew nothing of the 
hothouse culture of its later summers. Avoiding statistics, 
which may be safely confided to the official Page, to the 
more substantial Folio, we continue our saunter. After 

5 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

leisurely passing various heaps, stalls, and hampers con- 
taining vegetables, fruit, and general farm-produce, we 
came to a lowly collection of second-hand (and how many 
hands beyond the second ?) books, pamphlets, prints, and 
the like, arranged upon the stones. Being the first literary 
or pictorial display we had seen, we eagerly stooped to 
examine the store. Could this be called "Stooping 
to Conquer .' " The pictures, though charming, were soon 
despatched. The books, too, were abandoned in reason- 
able time—- the sooner, as we knew them to be entirely 
beyond our reach. But the periodicals proved an almost 
endless source of pleasure and difficulty ; pleasure, in 
poring over each article and woodcut, and in laying aside 
for a second glance those that particularly pleased us ; 
difficulty, in guarding our selection from being disturbed 
by other hands ; and further, in weeding the flowers on 
perceiving we had selected the major part of the dealer's 
stock. " Friend after friend departed," as James Mont- 
gomery sings, until a solitary copy of the Mirror remained 
in our fingers. It was a supplementary number, dedicated, 
to a description of the Arctic voyages of Captains Parry, 
Ross, and Franklin. For this twopenny treasure wa 
gladly paid, at half price, our only penny, and ratified our 
maiden purchase in literature. We regret our inability to 
record the name of this our first and most patient bib- 
liopolist ; but doubtless he was an emulative William 
Hutton, who began the bookselling business with one 
pound's worth of "trash," and ended in affluent retire- 
ment ; or a persevering William Chambers, who success- 
fully "cultivated literature on a little oatmeal" and five 
shillings. Yet the probabilities are against such favour- 

Smithfield Market andits Vicinity. 53 

able conclusions. Only at rare and distant intervals is the 
world startled from its equanimity by some phenomenon of 
wealth or of intellect emerging from the multitude. In the 
lottery of life the capital prizes must of necessity be limited 
to the fortunate few ; the vast crowd must content itself as 
it best may with minor rewards or with positive blanks. 

From the date of that first literary purchase we felt a 
craving for copper. Mirrors, or Caskets, or Olios were 
bought with every available coin, duly devoured, and 
carefully preserved. Although these bygone periodi- 
cals have long been invalided, they retain a certain 
interest by the power of association. The Mirror con- 
tinued to appear before the public until it became the 
Tom Moody of weekly numbers, having been " in at the 
death" of countless rivals. It succumbed at length to 
the serial quartos. In numbers, as in craniums, size is 
usually an index of power. The large pennyworths find 
most favour with the multitude, and thus the literary 
Goliaths almost invariably defeat the Davids. 

Pursuing the system of miscellaneous purchase during 
a series of years, we lessened the curious heaps that had 
accumulated upon the shelves or counters of Jacob 
Williamson and James Wroe, — not forgetting the numer- 
ous stalls which used to line the footpath in Shudehill, 
tended by James Weatherley, Elijah Ridings, and other 
noteworthy booksellers. Of Jacob, his eccentricities, and 
his antiquated corner, due mention has been made else- 
where. Mr Wroe was an earnest and well-known reformer, 
who kept a book and music shop in Great Ancoats Street 
until the period of his death, in 1844. How well we 
remember that shop, inside and out, together with its 

54 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Saturday-evening sales by auction, — though these latter 
attractions we could not attend, and knew them only by 
report. At that epoch, Saturday night was the general 
paytime, the popular marketing, when Smithfield and its 
vicinity were seen in their throng and glory. On all such 
evenings we, being in the public service, were busily 
improving the race of men, freeing them from unbecoming 
(h)airs, cleansing them from the stains and impurities of 
the week ; in short, fitting them for the serener duties of 
home and the Sabbath. Could any officer of health, 
supported by his sanitary staff, be more useful in his way 
as a regenerator .■' Mr Wroe, as already stated, auctioned 
his books to others, not to us. But in his window we 
found a perpetual feast of numbers, — a world at one 
view, — life without dulness or commonplace. The Casket 
and the Olio were spread over the panes to show the most 
interesting pictures. How Collins the poet would have 
rejoiced to see all his " Passions " in flower at the same 
moment. Here was no slow preparation for action, no 
tedious tuning of instruments before one could get any 
music. The warriors were met in mortal combat — the 
lovers in delicious repose. If one picture showed Jerry 
Abershaw robbing the mail, in the next he was swinging 
from the last gibbet erected in England. Lynch law was 
beaten hollow. But the scenes, of blighted affection 
touched us most— especially one that might have been 
entitled " News from the Invisible World." A beauteous 
bride was environed by the spirits of evil ; and so deep 
was the interest we felt in the alarming fate of that lady 
and her spectre bridegroom, that we still remember their 
names : — 

Smithfield Market and its Vicinity. 55 

" Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight — 
The maiden's, the Fair Imogene." 

With a parting cheer for the Fine Arts in a fury, we 
may add that Mr Wroe was during many years a com- 
missioner of police, and one of the most popular of 
that governing body, whose existence and influence are 
proven by the " Seal of Old Manchester," engraved as a 
characteristic ornament for our opening chapter. Between 
1 8 18 and 1821 he was a proprietor of the Manchester 
Observer newspaper. It is recorded in the " Dictionary 
of Printers and Printing," that in the course of four 
months no less than thirteen processes issued against 
himself and family on account of articles which were 
considered libellous. So it would seem that Mr Wroe, 
living in excitable times, and seeking to gratify excited 
readers, indulged in effective paragraphs, which proved 
expensive luxuries, bringing both cash penalties and 
imprisonment in their train. 

Newspaper editors — professed reviewers of men, of 
manners, of books — live in critical glass houses (round 
houses, forming a circle of reflectors), and yet niust 
they, if faithful unto duty, be ceaselessly following in 
the wake of David, slinging stones at the Giant Errors of 
the world. 

Mr Wroe's sometime contemporary, James Weatherley, 
eschewed politics and their attendant dangers, dividing 
his time pretty equally between books and Bacchus ; the 
latter absorbing the profits arising from the former, for 
the tipsy deity is a notorious leveller. A couple of stray 
leaves from Mr Weatherley's neglected diary will plea- 
santly illustrate his peculiarities : they are the only leaves 

56 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

preserved* As the diarist enumerates most of the second- 
hand booksellers of his time, the list may possess some 
general interest ; and as all are named in a friendly spirit, 
none will find cause for complaint. 

" Tuesday, April i.— All fools' day ! flattering coin- 
cidence. Too many friends at the Wheat Sheaf; could 
not get away. Wonder where they keep Temperance 
pledges t Must inquire. Ale at the Sheaf rather heavy. 
Lighter at the Seven Stars, Stars always light; their 
reflections brighter than mine. Dull jesting this morn- 
ing. Remember selling a rare book for a sovereign that 
I picked up for a shilling. But that happened long 
ago, when Jacob — a queer fish was Jacob — and I kept 
neighbouring stalls in the market-place, near the top of 
Smithy Door, Did not waste a penny of that money ; 
had more sense then. Older and madder. Would make 
a capital preacher; can teach anybody wisdom except 
myself. Ah ! the light and the lantern again : no wonder 
they say comparisons are odious. Sutton came: the 
world has grown worse with me since first I knew Sutton. 
Said I was queer ; offered me a hair of the dog that bit 
me so savagely last night. What could I say.' 'May 
we ne'er want a friend nor a bottle to give him.' Drank 
that toast too often and too deeply at the Sheaf. Then 
Fithian came; had in his pocket a pledge, which he 
kindly offered to me. Sorry it was just too late: had 
given my word to Tom, and what is a man but his word 1 — 

* Amongst recent discoveries, may be enumerated a few more leavfes of 
J- W.'s diary, relating, mainly, his experience at the Grammar School at the 
beginning of the present century ; but these must needs be sought else- 

Smithfield Market audits Vicinity. 57 

' Tom never from his word departed, 
His virtues were so rare.' 

Must take one glass now ; could not well take the pledge 
and all. "So went with Tom into the Fleece, where 
'Lijah once saw the domestic battle 'wi' th' Bailies,' 
which Rogerson wove into rhyme : — 

' Aw'r stondin' by Dick Livesey heawse, 
Th' owd Fleece, i' Withy Grove.' 

No use trying to be a warbler. If ever I 'favour the 
company with a song,' the company must supply the 
singer. Never could sing to please myself, let alone 
pleasing others: capital listener, though, when the song 
and the singer are worth hearing. Parted with Tom, 
and crossed over alone to the Seven Stars. Market 
day; country buyers. Robert Holt, of Prestwich, — 
friendly customer for anything local or curious in books 
or coins, in prints or medals. Glad to see him always. 
Should have got some fresh stock from Nathan Moore, 
or John Long, or William Ardrey; but where is the 
money } Useless to meet buyers with nothing to sell ; 
might as well stay here ; yet cannot stay here for naught. 
James Hudson has rent and taxes to pay for this ancient, 
well-preserved tavern — the most picturesque hostel re- 
maining in Manchester, bar Wilmot's in Smithy Door. 
They say the 'Stars' is five hundred years old, and 
has seen out many a spreeing customer such as me. 
Must be fair, as long as I have anything to be fair with : 
Mary, bring me another glass, and let it be fresh drawn. 
Should not be the only idler in the trade to-day : James 
Weatherley used to know a trick worth two of this. 

58 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Thomas Sutton would not. tarry ; neither would William 
Fithian nor Edward Tyson; they are now arranging 
their stores to attract the bookworms. Will Ford, Robert 
Roberts, and Willis are steady in their shops, — William 
Ford (a true chip of the old block) composing cata- 
logues at his leisure, arranging artistic rarities, or select- 
ing lots for the auctioneer's hammer. That hammer is 
Soingj going) gone, at this identical hour, knocking down 
three-volume novels at an 'alarming sacrifice,' as the 
drapers say. But novels are more in Mistress Baker's 
way than in mine. She has made a study of the cir- 
culating libraries, and knows exactly what will captivate 
their readers. Those libraries are sinking now, — the list 
of their names becomes shorter year by year, — but she 
will sustain them, if any one can. So I may leave her 
to cater for the few remaining librarians — Miss Cockroft, 
George Jacques, Joseph Bohanna, William Hyde, and 
the rest. Should not be idling here in business hours ; 
paying very dear for the whistle — buying sixpenny ale 
at a shilling a quart. Joseph Lockwood is minding 
both shop and stall, and prospering accordingly. Close 
beside him, with a much smaller collection, stands young 
James Hayes. I feel sorry for Hayes. That family 
should be riding- in a family carriage for inventing 
those spinning-jennies. 'Lijah Ridings is ringing his 
official bell, or day-dreaming over his favourite books. 
William Hunt is stocking his new shop in Chapel Street, 
vowing to make Salford keep at least one good book- 
store ; but he will not succeed where so many have failed. 
John Halliwell, Farrel Battle, and others are busy in the 
market. All busy bees, all improving 'each shining 

Smithfield Market and its Vicinity, 59 

hour,' etcetera, as authors write on their title-pages, 
after naming all their books. Wife came with Roger. 
Misfortunes never come alone. Yet Roger is a good 
lad sometimes; and the lady should not be blamed for 
attending to her lord." 

Here the diary abruptly terminates; the diarist sup- 
posed to be gone home to a curtain lecture. Considering 
that William Hutton and James Weatherley were engaged 
in the same line of business, their trade diaries diiifer 
strangely. The latter's natural shrewdness made his 
remarks valuable to younger dealers. On hearing a 
casual observation touching the smallness of his store 
(for towards the close of his career it grew "small by 
degrees," without becoming "beautifully less"), Weatherley 
would rejoin that he had tried his hand at large unchang- 
ing stocks, but preferred a small assortment, if frequently 
replenished. " It was all very well," he would continue 
in effect, though not precisely in language, "for the 
Huttons and Lackingtons of the last century to write 
of their tiny beginnings and proud endings, to tell us 
of their huge collections and progressive triumphs; but 
in those days buyers were waiting for books, while in 
our era books are waiting for buyers. Therein lies the 
important difference. Better to. change the tactics now. 
When the shelves or stalls are full, do not hastily erect 
others, but examine the store. Pick out the works that 
have done their duty, — that have gone the round of the 
customers, — and may not again be wanted ; exchange 
or sell these at a cheap rate, and with the money buy 
fresh ones which your visitors are waiting to see. You 
will thus be enabled to keep the stock small, yet effective 

6o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

— the drones giving reasonable place to the working bees." 
Such was the essence of James Weatherley's experience- 
none the less valuable to others because to himself its 
advantages were counteracted by beer. He continued 
his bootless (almost bookless) struggles to the year i860, 
or thereabouts; when, at the age of sixty- six, he sur- 
rendered at the silent summons, as poor and as patient 
as Job. 

It was at those homely bookstalls in Smithfield Market 
and its vicinity that we first encountered the weird enter- 
tainments of the "Arabian Nights," the mystical legends 
of the " Elf and the Fairy," the marvels of the Heathen 
Mythology, the " Iliad " of the sightless wandering minstrel, 
and other charming emanations of intellect, which seem 
as impervious to the touch of Time as if they had been 
dipped, like Achilles, in the Stygian waters. 

■" Such books as these 

Are of no time or place ; 
They live for ages yet to be, — 
They live for all our race ! " 

Those undying favourites we perused with delight, as a 
matter of course, but also with a feeling of despondency. 
We could not help comparing their enviable longevity with 
certain buddings and blossomings of our own which 
perversely refused to expand into flowers or fruitage. 
Although we guarded their tendrils from the blights of 
early spring, and fostered them with all the Promethean 
fire and light that were in us, the ephemerals would not 
live. Naturally curious to discover the key to any 
mystery, and as anxious as the Cornishmen to " know the 
reason why," we often analysed the composition of those 

Smitkfield Market and its Vicinity. 6 1 

literary evergreens ; though not exactly as the boy 
analysed the bellows to discover the source of the wind. 
When we met with any book — Shakespearian or otherwise 
— that had basked in the sunshine of general favour during 
one, or two, or three hundred years, and was still as full of 
vigour and vitality as at first, we found it a pleasant task 
to search for the mental charm, the ethereal spirit, that 
enabled the undying one to float above the waters of Lethe, 
instead of sinking beneath the surface with the crowd of 
common books. 


god's acre. 

" This is the field and acre of our God, 
This is the place where human harvests grow." 


OUR present chapter must needs be less cheerful than 
its immediate predecessor. On that occasion we 
had the pleasure of summoning to our aid a throng of 
familiar names and faces, in addition to the pictorial 
window of Mr James Wroe, our worthy and intelligent 
bibliopolist of a former day. Nothing less than a sense of 
duty, — for duty is owing to the departed as well as to the 
living, — would induce us to exchange such congenial 
associations for the lettered pathways of the Cathedral 
Yard, where all associations are forgotten, where remem- 
brance is no more. Yet even here an occasional hour may 
be profitably spent, and the records we glean of the buried 
past may be found of sufficient interest for the columns of 
a living newspaper, or for these memorial pages. 

We cannot traverse the streets of Manchester, vacantly 
or with thoughtful observation, over any considerable 
space, without being checked by a churchyard. Whatso- 
ever point of the vane we may choose, one of these silent 
monitors confronts us with the ominous reminder, "Hitherto 
shalt thou come, but no further, — at least in the flesh." 

God's Acre. 63 

Such is the sermon the burial-ground mutely preaches to 
the pensive wayfarer. We can rarely enter the consecrated 
precincts without a feeling of reverence and awe, — reverence 
for the silent chambers beneath our feet, awe for the solemn 
mysteries overhead. Perhaps this feeling has been inten- 
sified - by a startling query once propounded by Thomas 
de Quincey, Manchester's deepest thinker. It was to this 
effect : — " Supposing the buried worlds, the countless 
generations entombed since the creation of man, were to 
arise and claim their places upon earth, what would 
become of the living?" What, indeed! How, for 
example, would the Shah of Persia fare in the warrior- 
presence of the first Darius .' Descending to domestic 
affairs, what would be the fate of many a frail Fatima, 
were her Bluebeard to return once more from his journey, 
examine the magical key, and punish the violation of the 
blue chamber } We fear there would be more silent 
women in the land than the headless lady pictured 
satirically on the tavern signboard. 

As the Cathedral Yard is .situated at the extremity of 
Long Millgate, and likewise at the termination of Hunt's 
Bank, we must, as a natural sequence, enter it to pursue 
our researches. On passing through the gateway at 
Hunt's Bank, we are immediately greeted, on the left 
hand, by the familiar name of Bamford, as it occurs in the 
inscription placed over the veteran's mother, who died in 
Manchester : — 

" Here resteth the remains of Hannah, 
wife of Daniel Bamford, late of Middleton, 
who departed this life December 26, 179s, 
aged 40 years." 

64 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

"When my father" writes Samuel Bamford, in his 
" Early Days," " had completely recovered, he was grieved 
that my mother had not been buried at Middleton, with 
her children, as it was her expressed desire to be. He 
accordingly took measures with a view to having her wish 
complied with, but Doctor Ashton, who was at the time 
rector of Middleton, and warden of the Collegiate Church 
at Manchester, refused to grant permission for the removal 
of her remains, alleging as his reason — and that perhaps a 
proper one — that the infection of which she died, might be 
communicated to persons attending the ceremony. She 
therefore remained in her grave on the north side of the 
steeple at the Collegiate Church, where my father caused 
a stone to be placed, with a suitable inscription ; but in the 
alterations which some years ago were made in the church- 
yard, my mother's gravestone, like many others, disap- 
peared." The stone, though absent for a time, has been 
duly replaced, albeit in a shattered condition. 

A little further on the north side was a stone (now 
removed) bearing sundry names, inclusive of the follow- 
ing :— 

" Ellen, wife of Isaac Nield, aged 2 1 years, 
drowned with seven more by a stage break- 
ing down near the New Bridge, Nov. 27th 

The accident by which Ellen Nield and her companions 
lost their lives has been variously described. From the 
most reliable version we gather that on a certain night in 
November 1798, near the hour of twelve, a coachman 
drove his vehicle, for the purpose of washing, into the 
river Irwell, at Stanyhurst (opposite to the Cathedral 

God's Acre. 65 

tower, on the Salford side of the water). The current 
running strong, the horses were drawn into the centre of 
the stream, and forced under one of the arches of the 
old bridge. In that critical state they swam, with the 
man on the box, through Blackfriars Bridge, struggling 
for their lives until one o'clock in the morning. Coming 
near to a dyer's flat, the man leaped upon it, and there 
lay exhausted. The horses endeavoured to- fallow their 
master to his place of safety, but failed, and were drowned. 
At daylight curiosity drew knots of people together to see 
the bodies of the horses floating. A group of women and 
children stood on a dyer's stage overhanging the river 
near the New Bailey Bridge, when the bottom of the 
stage gave way, and all were precipitated into the water. 
Three were saved, the remaining eight were washed 
away by the flood. One of the three rescued was a boy, 
fetched out by a dyer's dbg. The sagacious animal 
returned for another prize, but he was too late. Good 
dog! He reminds us of the brave Moustache. The First 
Napoleon would have adorned his neck with a ribbon 
and a medal. In the middle of February 1799, after 
eleven weeks' immersion, the body of Ellen Nield was 
washed up near the locks at Barton Bridge ; she was 
recognised by her clothes, though in a dilapidated state. 
On the same day (the ice had suddenly thawed) another 
of the sufferers was found at Mode Wheel, at which weir 
so many inanimate forms have been recovered, especially 
after the numerous floods occurring during the present 
century. In consequence of the disaster thus described, 
an official notice was issued that the passage leading 
from Greengate to the river would be closed each evening 

66 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

at sunset against all carriages. Formerly Stanyhurst was 
so much frequented, that many accidents happened 
through overcrowding. This Stanyhurst accident partly 
repeated itself in October 1873. A cabman, John Proctor, 
aged twenty-nine, a resident of Hulme, unaccountably 
drove his cab, near midnight, on to the towing-path- 
of the river Irwell, near Stanley Street, and, with the 
horse and cab, fell into the river. After considerable 
difficulty, the horse was rescued, but the driver was 
drowned, and the cab wellnigh destroyed. 

On the south side of the Cathedral Yard, not far from 
the tower, a quaintly-cut inscription of some historical 
interest was visible until very recently, but it has now 

" Here lyeth ye body of Gamaliel Whitaker, 

late vicar of Kirk Burton in Yorkshire, who 

dyed ye first day of February 1643." 

To these words Mr Owen has added, in his manuscript 
book of local epitaphs, an extract from the register of 
burials: — "1643, Feb. ist. — Gamaliel Whittaker, preacher 
of ye Word of God, deceased at Widow Birches.'' In 
elucidation of these records we gladly avail ourselves of a 
letter addressed to Mr Owen by Mr H. J. Morehouse, 
the historian of Kirkburton :— " Many thanks for your 
note containing the inscription on Mr Whitaker's grave- 
stone. As the circumstances connected with his death 
have been carefully considered by me, I view this inscrip- 
tion with peculiar interest. I very much regret to learn 
that the stone has disappeared. It is sad to think that 
the ancient memorials which surround many of our 
parish churches are so little cared for. The public owe 

God^s Acre. 67 

you a debt of gratitude for rescuing many of these 
memorials of your parish and neighbourhood. The entry 
in your register of Mr Whitaker's burial is also interest- 
ing, and it affords a painful picture of the times, as you 
will learn by the following extract from the parish 
register at Kirkburton : — ' Hester Whitaker, wife of 
Gamaliel Whitaker, vicar at Kirkburton, whoe was slaine 
the 1 2th day at night January instant, and was buried 
the isth day 1643-4.' In my book [" History of the Parish 
of Kirkburton "] I have entered rather minutely into what 
appears to me probable circumstances which led to these 
disastrous results. One paragraph may interest you: — 
' In the autumn of the year 1643, the cause of the Parlia- 
ment began to brighten, and continued steadily to advance 
till these sanguinary conflicts were brought to a close 
by the entire subversion of the Royalists and the death 
of the King. Whether the attack made by the army 
under the Earl of Newcastle upon the inhabitants of 
Holmfirth had been at the instigation of Mr Whitaker, 
can now only be matter of conjecture; but what shortly 
afterwards befell him seems to imply that the inhabitants 
regarded it as such ; for not long after a party of soldiers 
(Parliamentarians) from Woodhead went in the night to 
Burton to carry off Mr Whitaker to Manchester, where 
he died in a month of grief and ill-usage. Whether any 
resistance had been offered on the part of the vicar or his 
friends there exists no evidence to show, but tradition 
states that Mrs Whitaker was shot on the staircase of the 
parsonage.' " 

Still lingering on the southern side of our ancient 
modernised Cathedral, and approaching: the Mitre Hotel, 

68 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

we find no difficulty in deciphering a lengthy epitaph, 
which, to the careless gazer, shows nothing uncommon, 
but to the reader acquainted with the painful story of the 
forgotten sleeper at his feet, how much is the interest of 
the chiseled record increased ! The value of adding cause 
to effect is efficiently demonstrated. A brief portion of the 
epitaph is all we require : — 

"Also Margt. wife of the above Henry 
Marsden, who departed this life April 26, 
1 817, aged 75 yrs." 

At the date here given, Margaret Marsden, a widow, had 
been, during ten years, servant in the house of Mr Thomas 
Littlewood, adjoining the Three-nooked Field, Pendleton. 
The family consisted of four persons — the master and 
mistress, Margaret, and a younger servant, Hannah Par- 
tington, aged twenty. Mr Littlewood had a grocer's shop 
in Salford, where every Saturday he attended to meet his 
customers, the market people. On Saturday morning, the 
26th of April 1 817, Mr and Mrs Littlewood went to their 
business as usual ; at their return in the evening, they . 
found several neighbours gathered near the house appre- 
hensive of something wrong. A ladder being procured, 
the dwelling was entered by an upper window; and on 
descending, the two servants were found murdered — 
Hannah weltering in her blood on the floor, Margaret on 
her chair. A poker, bent and bloody, lay upon the dresser ; 
a stained cleaver was also found. About one hundred and 
sixty pounds in notes and gold were missing, in addition 
to some plate and wearing apparel. Who had committed 
the crime ? None could tell with certainty ; but four 
men had been noticed hovering about during the day. 

God's Acre. 69 

Suspicion therefore attached to them : they were de- 
scribed, and speedily hunted down. Two were appre- 
hended in St George's Road, one in Silk Street, Newton 
Lane; the other at the Swan Inn, Sugar Lane : all on the 
following day. Committed to the Assizes at Lancaster, 
the prisoners were thus arraigned before the Lord Chief- 
Baron, in the month of August then next ensuing : — Wil- 
liam Holden, forty-seven ; James Ashcroft the elder, fifty- 
three ; James Ashcroft the younger, thirty-two ; David 
Ashcroft, forty-eight; John Robinson, fifty-three. The 
last-named was acquitted, there being no evidence to 
connect him either with the crime or with the other 
persons accused. The foreman of the grand jury was 
Edward Geoffrey Lord Stanley, then in his nineteenth 
year. In his charge to the petit jury, at the conclusion 
of the trial, the Chief-Baron observed that the circum- 
stances of the case were extraordinary ; without doubt 
blood was spilled in considerable quantity, yet not a drop 
was visible on any of the prisoners; nor was any part 
of the missing property found upon them, — except, per- 
haps, the money, which could not be identified. But two 
of the prisoners had suddenly become possessed of bank- 
notes and gold, of which no satisfactory account was 
given. The strong favourable points he considered over- 
balanced by the general tenor of the evidence, which, 
though circumstantial, formed a connected chain. The 
prisoners solemnly denied any knowledge of the murder, 
but their denial went of course for nought. It is the 
peculiar and unavoidable hardship of accused persons — 
whatsoever the accusation may be — that their lips are 
virtually sealed, even against the truth. The jury almost 

70 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

immediately returned a verdict of guilty against all the 
four men, who were thereupon sentenced to death, to 
be followed by dissection. On Monday, 8th September, 
the execution took place. While upon the scaffold, 
William Holden said to the multitude, " I am now going 
to meet my God, and in the face of Him I declare I am 
as innocent of the concern as the child yet unborn." 
David Ashcroft said, " You are all assembled to see four 
innocent men suffer. ... I would not now tell a lie 
for all the world." As soon as the elder Ashcroft came 
upon the scaffold, he kissed his son. After the ropes 
were affixed, they all sang a hymn which David gave out. 
It was the well-known hymn beginning — 

" I'H praise my Maker whilst I've breath. 
And when my voice is lost in death, 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers : 
My hours of praise shall ne'er be past, 
While life, and thought, and being last, 

Or immortality endures.'' 

While they were singing, the drop fell, and the guilt or 
innocence of the four men remains to the present day a 
debatable point — a problem unsolved. 

The inscriptions in the Cathedral Yard are essentially 
prosaic: few verses are visible. Perhaps the surround- 
ings are anti-poetical. The springs of Castalia, we may 
remember, were not polluted, as are the streams of the 
Irwell and the Irk. Neither was the atmosphere breathed 
at Mount Helicon tainted, as with us, by chemical 
miasma. In our city churchyard Gray could never have 
composed his famous Elegy. As we wander into the 
country, we become impressed with the fancy— almost 

God's Acre. 71 

the fact — that elegies spring with the flowers. Often, too, 
they appear equally suggestive, or soothing, or beautiful. 
But at other times and places, the tributary rhymes are 
as uniform in their mediocrity as if a churchyard laureate 
were maintained for the special purpose of supplying 
them. Another point of divergence exists between the 
city and the sylvan " God's Acre." In our Cathedral Yard 
Old Mortality can never feel quite at ease, nor appear 
in his native character. In deference to the prevailing 
fashion, he must leave his favourite pony in the stable, 
and exchange his picturesque blue bonnet for a modern 
hat. Even then, the active spirits thereabouts, who know 
so well that time is money, and that money makes the 
mare to go, will marvel that the old-time dreamer should 
linger so long on the unbusiness side of the railings. 
But in the green enclosure of the hamlet the pilgrim-poet 
finds his natural element. As he pursues his vocation, the 
silence and solitude remain unbroken, except by welcome 
visitants. The mower, bearing his newly-sharpened 
scythe, passes him with a friendly nod ; the country girl 
trips gaily near with her basket of fruit and flowers, 
daintily picking her way through the pasturing sheep j 
while the hoary sexton — the " Goodman Delver " of 
Shakespeare — slowly adds his useful illustrations to the 
chiseled chronicles. And so the hours glide, to Old 
Mortality's content, until his research is completed, or 
until the shadowed dial warns him to depart with the 

That many of our venerable rustic churches and hal- 
lowed places of rest possess charms sufficient to justify 

72 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Mortality's predilection, few will be disposed to deny ; and 
that such visits to neglected shrines may be amply re- 
warded we have often received satisfactory proof. Once, 
and once only, we chanced to be at Cartmel, — a sea-girt 
valley, reached by crossing the sands from Lancaster, and 
placed at the foot of the Fells, which herald the grand 
mountain range of the Lake district. It was Sunday; the 
stillness was impressive; and as we loitered among the 
mounds, and headstones, and scattered sheep, the bell rang 
out for morning service, and we entered the ancient priory 
church. One member of the limited congregation was the 
lord of the neighbouring lands (the Earl of Burlington), 
paying due homage to the Lord of all. During the 
sermon, birds were flying from opened window to window, 
or singing on the war-worn banner, as it waved fitfully 
from the ceiling. Here and there, along the aisles, were 
monumental brasses, which shone in the vivid sunlight. 
Though all this might be commonplace to the isolated 
villagers, the scene afforded to us (who had passed our 
Sundays busily within a crowded city) an agreeable speci- 
men of Sabbath life in the country. It was a glimpse 
of a fresher existence, a breathing of a purer atmosphere, 
than we had hitherto shared. 

■ While at Cartmel, we saw a kitchen-fire which had not 
been extinguished during a long lifetime. " It is seventy- 
five years," said the owner, Mr William Field, in explana- 
tion, "since I was born in this house, and the fire has never 
been out to my knowledge. It is easily kept in. We cut 
a peat from the adjoining moss, put it under the embers at 
night, and in the morning nothing- is required save fresh 

God's Acre. 73 

fuel." The fire glowed upon the hearthstone, the ample 
old-fashioned place being independent of a grate. The 
family pot was suspended by substantial hooks and chains ; 
the whole reminding us of a gipsy tent, and of an English 
home in the days of Queen Elizabeth. 

A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 75 

cated at the Moravian School, Fairfield. Like Coleridge, 
our humourist enlisted in the army, and, to complete the 
resemblance, was soon restored to his friends. In 1829 
he was in business as a bookseller at the upper end of 
Market Street, his next-door neighbours being Jewsbury 
and Whitlow. As a bookseller Mr Gregson was unsuccess- 
ful, soon resigning his shop to a confectioner, who got all 
the sweets of business where Geoffrey, on his own affirma- 
tion, had received all the sours. In 1833 was published 
his " Gimcrackiana ; or, Fugitive Pieces on Manchester 
Men and Manners Ten Years Ago." Most of the effusions 
contained in the book had previously appeared in the 
(Liverpool) Kaleidoscope, the Manchester Guardian, and the 
Iris. With a droll incident of the old stage-coaching days, 
we take leave of our sprightly cicerone in Market Street : — 

"A few stanzas more ere my theme I give over, 
On that wonderful coach which they call the Red Rover, 
For ' Take off a wheel,' as said Richard to Robin, 
You'll never be spilt, ' Patent Safety,' you Bobbin ! 
For it is not a month since, as going down-hill. 
The coach parted company with a fore-wheel. 
And still held on her course, and, though going quite fast. 
Ne'er found out the loss tiU the trundler passed : 
Nay I've heard, but pray keep it between I and you, 
Next season they're meaning to try it with two ! ! 
They return by this coach, do these sons of the trade. 
So I've nicknamed each ' kid ' as a Red Roving blade ; 
As the clock of th' Infirmary strikes eight they go — 
You may fancy the ' coves ' in the picture below ! " 

Mr Wilmot Henry Jones, whose name appears in Mr 
Gregson's picture, was the Manchester Moxon, the pro- 
vincial poets' printer. He was in business prior to 1829, 
his name disappearing from the Directory in 1843. 

76 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Amongst the notable issues from Mr Jones' press may be 
enumerated the first edition of Bailey's " Festus," Roger- 
son's "Rhyme, Romance, and Reverie," Edward Chesshyre's 
" Posthumous Songs," " Gimcrackiana," and the " Man- 
chester Literary Gazette." It is worthy of remark, that 
Robert Rose, the bard of colour, was the first person who 
bought a copy of "Festus," when that wonderful poem 
was printed here. There had been no rush for early 
impressions. When Mr Jones — a curious character^was 
informed of the tardy sale, he sought out the purchaser, to 
congratulate him on his superior and singular taste. 

A much earlier glimpse of Market Street is yielded by 
an ancient legal " Case ; " in which the upper portion of 
the lane, two centuries and a half ago, is thus describedy 
the value of land and rental being also minutely set forth. 
The amazing contrast between then and now will impress 
the most casual observer. "John Hunt, late of Manchester 
in the county of Lancaster, deceased, being in his lifetime 
seised of a messuage, with the appurtenances in Manchester 
aforesaid, situate in or near a certain street there called 
the Market Street Lane, and one barn, with the appurten- 
ances to the said messuage belonging, and three closes in 
Manchester aforesaid, lying near and belonging to the said 
messuage or dwelling-house, called by the several names of 
the Great Meadow, the Brick-Kiln Meadow, the Kiln Field, 
and the House Field, containing by estimation ten acres 
of land or thereabouts, did, by indenture bearing date the 
26th of May 1 61 2, made between the said John Hunt of' 
the one part, and Robert Lever of Darcy Lever in the said 
county, clothier, of the other part, in consideration of one 
hundred and twenty pounds, paid to the said John Hunt 

A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 77 

by the said Robert Lever, demise to the said Robert 
Lever the said premises for the term of twenty-one years 
from Michaelmas then next, under the yearly rent of 
twenty shillings. And some short time after making of 
the said lease, the said John Hunt did, by deed, demise 
the said premises unto the said Robert Lever for the term 
of one hundred years, to commence from Christmas 1632, 
under the yearly rent of ten shillings." 

Exercising the peculiar privilege of the pen, and making 
thereby a convenient transit from 1632 to the current time, 
we may observe that Market Street, having already 
received its full share of literary and artistic attention, 
stands in no immediate want of another chronicler. 
Painters have sketched its venerable features while they 
were as yet picturesque ; pantomimists have introduced the 
traffic-laden thoroughfare into the comic business of the 
pantomime ; and songsters, finding here the active varieties 
of life, have eulogised the street in rough-and-ready verses. 
Quite recently, this main artery of the city has been 
visited by Mr Sala (the critical observer of many renowned 
thoroughfares of the world), who has recorded his impres- 
sions in the airy, free-ranging manner which he usually 
prefers; while Mrs Linnaeus Banks has thoughtfully dis- 
coursed upon its history from the other or more sedate 
side. So what more need be said or sung 1 The present 
writer has arrived a day after the fair. Little of novelty 
remains for him, unless he pursue the census-taking plan, 
making a shop-to-shop analysis. " Shops and their 
tenants " it must of necessity be, for in Market Street the 
shops are rarely found empty, and many of the tenants 
have possessed noteworthy attributes. 

78 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Let us now extend our stroll to Piccadilly. 

In one of the most remarkable of the short poems of 
Ludwig Uhland, the recently-deceased German poet, he 
describes a passage from shore to shore, in which he was 
accompanied by shadows— vanished people and scenes no 
longer visible to the matter-of-fact world. It will suit our 
humour to pace Piccadilly on this dream-like principle of 

Taking our stand upon the arch which spans the water- 
line separating Piccadilly from the London Road, a passing 
glance may be given to an early (conjectural) plan of the 
town, dating from the year of grace 800, when the now 
busy spot, the noisy railway station, was an unrecognised 
waste, the extremity of Manchester in this direction being 
Acre's Field. The first reliable notice of our city that is 
to be found in any English record is a passage in the 
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle under the date of 923. Even in 
the map of Manchester dated 1650,* a solitary house — 
Mr Lever's — is pictured as standing here alone in the 
midst of gardens, pasture lands, and corn-fields. Some 
years later, Mr Lever and his rural prospects having dis- 
appeared, a range of substantial dwellings rose upon the 

* With reference to this map, a shortcoming — the omisson of Sugar Lane — 
may be pointed out. The early existence of that lane is proven by a brief 
entry in the register : — " 1605, Maye 25. — Richard Boile, in y= Sugar Lane. 
Buried." Richard Boile was a victim of the plague, which raged fearfully in 
Manchester in 1605. So fatal was the pestilence, that no fewer than 1078 
interments were recorded during the year, being one-fifth of the inhabitants. 
These numbers are given on the authority of the Rev. John Booker's " History 
of Didsbury," confirmed by Mr Owen's reference to the registers at the Colle- 
giate Church. In the following year a tax, varying from sixpence to six 
shillings, was laid upon the inhabitants for the relief of the sufferers. — See 
Calendar of State Papers, 

A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 79 

site, perpetuating, as Lever's Row, the favourite name of 
the landowner. His retired mansion was converted into 
the White Bear Hotel, celebrated in " Gimcrackiana." 
Opposite the Row was the Daubholes, where the Infirmary- 
esplanade now appears.. Finally, we have the spacious, 
thriving, populous Piccadilly of our own day. 

Having thus briefly sketched the scene, we will endea- 
vour to people it with sundry figures, isolated or in groups. 

Several published views of this spot, with the Infirmary, 
of course, the most prominent object of attraction, will be 
familiar to observant citizens. Prior to these, we have 
a literal drawing by Barritt of the Daubholes, and a 
curious scene it forms. In the distance a goodly array 
of trees and underwood occupy the site of Portland Street 
and beyond ; the pond itself is wellnigh surrounded by 
gazers. In the immediate foreground two women have 
taken forcible possession of a man — whether in love or 
in war is not apparent. Superintending the whole, and 
with staff in hand, stands the parish beadle in his pic- 
turesque costume. The most patient of scolds is seated 
in the ducking-stool, awaiting the pleasure of the beadle's 
assistant to slip his rope and thereby immerse her in the 
pool. We have seen scolds much less tractable, much 
less obedient to the law and its officers. The Infirmary 
pond, subsequently railed and enclosed (to the permanent 
exclusion of scolds and ducking-stools), remained a lead- 
ing feature of Piccadilly until within recent years, when 
it was drained and filled-in, giving place to fountains and 

Moving slowly onward, as is our wont (" our custom in 
the afternoon"), we approach the boarding-house where 

So Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Wright Bowden, the Manchester opera-singer of a past 
generation, made his exit from the stage of life. Intro- 
duced to the musical world by Madame Mara, the great 
embroiderer of Handel, Mr Bowden left his father's 
tavern, the Unicorn, situated at the top of Smithy Door, 
to win laurels on the boards of Covent Garden Theatre. 
Thence, as a singing star, he warbled his " music of the 
spheres" at divers towns of the United Kingdom. Re- 
turning home, long after his home, with all its ties, had 
been swept away, he lingered with us to the close of his 
existence, in April 1823, ultimately occupying one of the 
thousand graves in St Mary's Churchyard, Parsonage, 
where his name may still be distinctly seen. 

We are now in immediate proximity to one of the most 
interesting private libraries in the county; but our visit 
to its books and brochures, its maps and manuscripts, can, 
without detriment, be postponed to another season. 

A few paces further along Piccadilly, in Chatham Street, 
died, after a lengthened residence and a green old age, 
Mr and Mrs Ward, the once celebrated comedians. So 
long ago as 1767, Mr Ward took a benefit at our original 
theatre in Mardsen Street, announcing himself as a native 
of the town. During a short stay in London he worked, 
like George Frederick Cooke, as a letterpress printer. 
Mrs Ward (originally Miss Hoare) was brought out at the 
Liverpool Theatre by Mr Younger, and was during 
many years the rival of Mrs Siddons, a circumstance to 
which she thus feelingly alluded in one of her later 
addresses : — 

" The dawn of life she cannot now portray 
With her and Siddons 'tis no longer May ; 

A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 8 1 

But the autumnal sun oft shines as bright 

As the refulgent summer's brilliant light. 

If not a Juhet in the spring of hfe, 

She still can act the mother and the wife : 

Shall she commence ? — she's waiting your commands ; 

She knows the signal — your approving hands." 

In 1782 Mr and Mrs Ward commenced an engagement 
at Drury Lane, where he opened as " Ranger," but returned 
to Manchester after one or two seasons. She remained 
in the metropolis a much longer period, performing 
regularly with Mrs Siddons and Miss Farren. In 1790, 
when the theatre in Spring Gardens was rebuilt, Mr 
Ward, conjointly with Mr Banks, assumed the manage- 
ment. On the retirement of Mr Banks, in the year 1800, 
his place at the managerial board was supplied by Mr 
Bellamy, the singer, who, five years later, withdrew in 
favour of Mr Charles Mayne Young. When, in the 
summer of 1807, the house ceased to be a theatre royal, 
Mr Young proceeded to win high honours in London, 
while Mr Ward retreated into private life. We hear 
nothing more of him until 1810, at which date he entered 
into an arrangement with Messrs Lewis and Knight, of 
the Liverpool Theatre, thereby acquiring the active con- 
trol of our playhouse in Fountain Street, which he retained 
until 1825. Mr Ward bade adieu to the stage as a per- 
former in April 1811, in the character of "Lord Ogleby," 
to Mrs Ward's " Miss Sterling." Later in the evening he 
delivered a farewell address, which, as it contains some 
bits of autobiography, may be thought worthy of repro- 
duction : — 

." Death shoots so well, he brings all ages down, 
And few escape to wear a patriarch's crown ; 


82 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

The sons of Thespis, too, who live by you, 
Find Sliakespeare's simile is but too true ; 
He says they strut and fret their scenic age, 
And then are heard no more upon the stage ; 
With their dibut some make their parting bow, 
Some in old age, — but I must do it now. 
'Tis more than thirty years since first I came 
To this loved town in search of scenic fame ; 
Young on the stage, as well as green in years, 
I wished to melt your hearts, and steal your tears ; 
Judgment misled — I thought my ardent soul 
Sharpened the dagger, filled the tragic bowl. 
You nursed the tyro, till maturer age 
Chalked out the line where best I trod the stage ; 
Hamlet and Romeo — the whole tragic stock, 
I left for ever — thence to wear the sock. 
The plaudit praise to me was highly dear. 
And whilst I live, 'twill gratefully glow here ; 
But gout, fell enemy of agile steps, 

Over some years I might have acted, leaps ; 

Seizes my limbs, and paralyses power. 

Ere my contemporaries reach their exit hour. 

Alas ! unequal to the active part, 

I now retire to cater for the art ; 

No longer actor — yet direct the scene. 

Proud when you're pleased, your praise the richest gain ; 

Happy when crowds attraction hither draws, 

Yet still more happy blessed with your applause." 

When we began our agreeable task of recalling a few 
of the departed worthies of Piccadilly, we referred to the 
Manchester newspapers for 1835 — the date of Mr Ward's 
decease — to glean a few autobiographical facts, and to 
read the list of brother actors, or managers, who had 
honoured his funeral by their presence. The mountain, 
as of yore, brought forth a mouse. One line and a half 
of curt information was all that could be found : — 

A Glance ai Market Sireei and Piccadilly. 83 

"December i, at his residence in Chatham Street, aged 
eighty-six, Thomas Achurch Ward, Esq." Not an allu- 
sion to the forty years' actor, and thirty years' manager, 
who had just taken his final leave of the town. A few 
years of quiet retirement had entirely obliterated the 
remembrance of his public Hfe, although so unusually 
lengthened and active. A classical writer might here 
exclaim, with a sigh, Sic transit, slowly adding the com- 
panion syllables, gloria mundi. When a favourite actor 
quits the stage, he " dies to all his former glory." Mrs 
Ward kept possession of our boards until April 18 16, at 
which date she quitted the theatre in her pet part, " Elvira." 
She survived her husband several years. 

At our next stage, Portland Place, died, at the mature 
age of eighty, Mr Thomas Houldsworth, whose name was 
once a household word in Manchester. His town resi- 
dence has since been converted and extended into the 
Queen's Hotel.* His principal country seat was Sherwood 
Hall, Nottinghamshire. In the obituary of Sylvanus 
Urban, Mr Houldsworth is described as late M.P. for 
the Northern Division of Notts, and cotton-spinner at 
Manchester and Pontefract ; but it was chiefly in associa- 
tion with running horses that he was so familiarly known. 
His connection with Kersal Moor Races began in 1804, 
and was continued with singular popularity until near the 
close of his existence. How well we recollect his silken 
jacket of green and gold ! How often have we seen it 
glisten in the Whitsuntide sunshine ! If we knew where 

* "Mr Houldsworth, 2 Portland Place, a beautiful star." Such was the 
printed description of his illumination on the occasion of the Queen's visit. 

84 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

he sleeps, and the miles were not too many, we might 
copy his epitaph for the sake of "auld lang syne." His 
favourite racer, Vanish, by Phantom, surmounted by Sam 
Darling, his principal jockey, will assuredly never vanish 
like a phantom from our recollection. His more famous 
horse, Filho da Puta, triumphed before our time. Mr 
Houldsworth was one of the oldest members of Parliament, 
having occupied a seat in the House thirty-four years — 
from 18 1 8 to the dissolution in 1852. His own dissolution 
occurred on the ist of September in the year last named : 
so the senator's robe was swiftly exchanged for the 
shroud. He represented successively Pontefract, Newton, 
and North Notts. This gentleman's parliamentary career, 
though long, was not remarkably brilliant. A regular 
attender and consistent voter, he nevertheless preferred,, 
as a rule, to be a silent listener in the House, — quite con- 
tent to leave to the Ciceros all the fiery outbursts of 
eloquence. Mr Houldsworth's reticence might almost be 
viewed in the light of a senatorial virtue. Who would 
not prefer attentive silence to loud mischievous eloquence .' 
For our part, we never listen to a long-winded mouther 
of fustian without feeling an earnest desire that Demos- 
thenes would resume the use of his pebbles. 



"If we calculate the eccentricity of the orbit in which royalty moves by 
the period that has elapsed since the last visit, and by that determine the 
period of the next, it will be close upon the twenty-second century ere the 
phenomenon is again observed in the streets of Manchester. I wonder what 
reign that will be in, what kind of people will fill our places to come and 
see it, who will be Mayor; and, 'though last, not least,' whether the Town 
Council will uniformly agree to wear gowns upon that occasion ; whether it 
will rain, as at Liverpool, or be fair, as at Manchester ? All this, I take it, is 
very grave matter for speculation. " 

Thomas Nicholson. 

/^^NE year prior to Mr Houldsworth's decease (as re- 
^-^ corded at the close of the last chapter), Piccadilly 
put on the gayest holiday dress she was ever known to 
wear. How well that dress became her, will be obvious 
by a glance at the accompanying engraving. In the 
production of this pictorial transcript of our greatest 
gala, two Manchester artists have happily united their 
talents. We are treating, of course, of the memorable 
October day (unprecedented in the history of Manchester) 
when Queen Victoria paid her first visit to the city of 
fents and factories. Long before daylight, in many 
directions, the noisy bustle of preparation could be 
heard. Sleep and work being alike suspended, the 
knockers-up were at a discount, and at liberty to enjoy 

86 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the pastime with the rest. Hasty feet flocked towards 
the scene of action as fast as the darkness, the occasional 
barriers, the guarding constables, would permit. No lack 
of huge banners, of great beauty, were seen waving aloft, 
while a multiplicity of streamers fluttered gaily from 
balcony and window. Long strings of Sunday-scholars 
in Sunday garments threaded their way towards Peel 
Park, commencing their festive march at six o'clock, and 
finishing shortly after nine. At the latter hour every 
person, party, or procession was expected to be in the 
place allotted or selected, save ticket-holders for plat- 
forms, who were allowed another hour. The ordinary 
traffic along the whole line of route from Worsley to 
Manchester was stopped at eight o'clock, until after her 
Majesty's return. The benefit societies and associated 
bodies lining the roads of Manchester and Salford were, 
in auctioneer phrase, " too numerous to mention " in these 
pages. They were distinguished by rosettes, sashes, or 
white gloves. One of these orders, styled the "True 
Friends,'' encompassed us, to the number of five hundred, 
on that auspicious day. Five hundred true friends! Alas! 
at the present writing we might search with the lantern 
of Diogenes without finding a tithe of the number. 

As the morning hours advanced, the church bells rang 
out — from steeples adorned with flagstaffs and colours — 
their loudest welcoming peals. Troops of country cousins 
arrived by waggon, or omnibus, or excursion train, accom- 
panied by bands of music playing " Haste to the Wed- 
ding," and other lively airs in favour with the villagers. 
From the orchards and meadow-lands came plenty of 
rosy cheeks to mingle during one day with the lily 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 87 

features of the city. Even the Infirmary, house of acci- 
dents, amputations, and death though it be, made merry 
with, the blythest. Its convalescent patients, assisted by 
sticks, arm-slings, or crutches, dotted the grounds of the 
institution, or walked along the margin of the pool ; other 
sufferers taking more elevated views from the sick wards 
aloft. The length of the Infirmary pond was six hundred 
and fifteen feet ; its width, at the Mosley Street end, 
being eighty feet, and at the end of Portland Street, 
sixty feet. The fountains in the basin, although unable 
to rival certain Continentals in magnitude or beauty, 
certainly did their best to sprinkle the passers-by, and 
when the utmost is done to please us, we ought to be 
grateful. From three large fountains the water rose 
glittering to a reasonable height, while the numerous 
smaller jets displayed a due spirit of emulation. So far 
as the royal cortege was concerned, there had been water 
enough at Liverpool, as well as at Patricroft, on the 
previous day, when Her Majesty and suite h^d seen thg 
threatening clouds "rain poikels," — as Lancashire aloj^p 
can rain them, — almost without intermission. Thp heavy 
rainfall necessarily marred the efifect of the rich state 
barges, and of the decorated regatta boats accompany- 
ing them in their progress from the landing-stage 2,% 
Patricroft to Worsley Hall; yet it could not drown the 
hearty hurrahs at Worsley Bridge, and at other points 
along the Bridgewater Canal, where the yeomen and 
peasantry had clustered to shout their loudest. Under 
this species of "Lancashire fire" the boat-horses stood 
firm, the result of previous training. At Salford, as at 
Manchester, the weather proved more favourable. A dull 

88 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

hazy morning gradually brightened ; gleams of sunshine 
intervened, a^ the sky retrieved its serenity; until, at 
noon, with Her Majesty's arrival, came really "Queen's 

The royal party, leaving Worsley about ten o'clock, 
and passing through Swinton, Irlams-o'-th-Height, and 
Pendleton, reached the triumphal arch at Windsor Bridge 
at eleven. Here the Mayor of Salford (Mr Thomas 
Agnew) was presented to the sovereign by Earl Grey, 
the minister in attendance — guards of honour, military 
bands, the melody of church bells, lending hilarity to the 
presentation. The departure from Worsley Hall, and 
progress on the road, were signalled to the authorities 
of Salford in a novel fashion, — not by beacon-fire, as in 
feudal times, nor by the modern mode of telegraphic 
wires, — but simply by four hundred policemen, distributed 
along the route, lifting their hats in rapid succession. 

In the regal procession were five carriages, containing 
the Queen, Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, the Princess 
Royal, the Duke of Wellington, the Duke of Norfolk, the 
Marquis of Westminster, the Earl and Countess of 
Ellesmere, Earl Grey, Viscountess Brackley, Viscountess 
Canning, the Honourable Captain Egerton, Ladies Alice 
and Blanche Egerton, the Honourable Beatrice Byng, 
Colonel Phipps, Colonel Gordon, Sir James Clark, 
and the Rev. H. M. Birch. These visitors were pre- 
ceded from Worsley to Salford by the High Sheriff (Mr 
Thomas Percival Heywood) in his state chariot, in which 
also sat the Earl of Carlisle and the lady of Mr Oliver 

On resuming his carriage, the Mayor of Salford, accom- 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 89 

panied by Mr Gibson, the town-clerk, led the way into Peel 
Park, being greeted at the entrance by the Blue-Coat 
Boys, playing " God save the Queen " upon their brass 
band. Each boy wore a medal, suspended round his neck 
by a scarlet ribbon. Moving slowly through the cheering 
multitude to the Pavilion, an address, engrossed on vellum, 
was there read and presented to Her Majesty. Then came 
the most impressive scene of the day. As the carriages 
passed between the platforms, where seventy thousand 
scholars were assembled, the procession was stayed until 
the children, led by Mr D. W. Banks, sang the national 
anthem, including a new verse written for the occasion 
by Mr Charles Swain. The effect has been described as 
singularly pleasing and novel, " filling the air with infan- 
tine melody." The royal cortege, preceded by the Mayor, 
then passed out at the principal entrance, proceeding 
along Chapel Street to the triumphal arch at Victoria 
Bridge, where Mr Agnew retired. 

On entering Manchester, at a quarter to twelve, the chief 
magistrate (Mr John Potter) was presented to Her Majesty, 
who received from his worship a bouquet of rare beauty. 
Here, as at Windsor Bridge, guards of honour, military and 
other bands, the church bells, and lusty voices enlivened 
the scene, to which was added a salute of small guns from 
the Salford side of the river, at Stanyhurst. The route 
pursued, preceded by the Mayor and the town-clerk, was 
along Victoria Street, Market Street, High Street, Shude- 
hill, Swan Street, Oldham Street (adorned with a chaste 
arch at each end, illuminated at night,) and so to Pic- 

As the royal visitors entered the scene of our illustration, 

90 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the occupants of the balconies and platforms rose en masse, 
to give force to their waving and cheering. When the 
excitement was at its height, a lady fell from a small 
temporary stand, thereby receiving injuries which, after a 
short illness, proved fatal. How the lights and shadows 
mingle ! The victim to the passing pageant was quickly 
removed by her mourning friends, and the multitude — 
partly unconscious, partly uncaring — pursued its merri- 
ment as if no serious accident had happened. There is 
nothing so merciless or selfish as a crowd ; a fact which we 
had once an opportunity of proving at the Bowdon Railway 
Station, The day (Good Friday) had been remarkably fine 
for the season, and Rostherne Mere, with its sylvan 
neighbour Dunham Park, held forth irresistible attractions 
to the denizens of the surrounding towns. Some idea of 
the number of visitors may be formed when we state that, 
returning to Bowdon Station at six o'clock in the evening, 
it was near midnight ere we obtained a safe seat in the 
train. As the carriages came, they were hastily filled, and 
swiftly departed. About eight o'clock there was a fearful 
rush, caused by some reckless persons holding by the 
handles of the carriages while in the act of being drawn 
up to the platform — thus forcing out of their places many 
who were awaiting their turn. Immediately a cry arose, 
" A girl under the wheel ! " But the cry passed almost 
unheeded until too late. The crowd had neither eyes nor 
ears, heart nor intellect, but continued its headlong course 
to the vacant carriages. Poor lassie ! she was crushed, 
like a summer butterfly, in her holiday garb. 

Return we now to Piccadilly and its pageant. As the 
coaches filed past us, our eyes wandered vainly in search 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 9 1 

of the Queen. She was simply attired in partial mourning, 
and although we love simplicity, it disappointed us on that 
occasion. We resembled the countryman who went to 
London in search of the royal arms, as recorded in the 
witty and wise pages of Joe Miller, and almost expected 
to see the coronation regalia surmounting the carriage in 
which Her Majesty rode. At length our vision rested on 
the unmistakable features of the Iron Duke, who died in 
the following year at Walmer Castle, and whose conspi- 
cuous monument — the most prominent of the four statues 
now ornamenting the Infirmary esplanade — towers close 
at hand, — writing from the stand-point we then occupied. 
We recognised none other of the royal or noble visitors, 
and were not sorry to fill our eyes just once with remarkable 
features, destined to live in history, in portraiture, and 
even in caricature, — for the small wits of the world will 
take their occasional fling ; though, sometimes, missing 
" Folly as it Flies," they shoot nobler game. The ven- 
erable Duke was passive, almost unobservant — perhaps 
thinking of the more thrilling hurrahs of the battle-field, 
where the colours float with a deeper meaning than in 
Piccadilly upon a gala day. 

So soon as the procession had passed from view we 
descended, with countless others, from our picturesque 
elevation, to examine the arrangements for the general 
illumination which was to follow after dark, and found 
the ornamental jets, transparencies, and variegated lamps 
well calculated to " make the night day " by their prodigal 

While thus surveying the preparations for the evening, 
the royal party continued their journey along Portland 

92 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Street, Parker Street, Mosley Street, Peter Street, Deans- 
gate, King Street, Cross Street, and through St Ann's 
Square to the Exchange. The number of gazers spread 
over the entire route was roughly estimated to exceed one 

The proceedings in the Exchange were of a very 
enthusiastic description, the building being densely 
crowded, notwithstanding the price of admission to the 
public had been advertised at twenty shillings each 
person. All the members of the Corporation, robed or 
unadorned, were ranged in due order; and many in- 
fluential people from neighbouring towns were present. 
To the list of noble personages already given several 
additions might be here made. Shortly before the 
Queen's formal entrance, Mr Heron, the town-clerk, 
briefly explained to the company the forms of etiquette 
usually observed in the presence of royalty. The entry 
of the Duke of Welhngton, with the Countess of Elles- 
mere resting upon his arm, served to herald the approach 
of the expected party. As Her Majesty and Prince 
Albert walked to the throne, followed by the youthful 
Prince and Princess, the national anthem was sung by the 
choristers of the Cathedral, the vast assemblage joining 
heartily in the familiar chorus. An address was then 
read by the recorder (Mr Armstrong), a richly-bound 
copy thereof being presented by the Mayor to Her 
Majesty. Here, as at Peel Park, a similar address was 
presented, unread, to Prince Albert. These addresses 
were, in each instance, graciously acknowledged. An 
agreeable surprise was next in store for the spectators : 
the Mayor, on receiving an intimation from Earl Grey, 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 93 

knelt at the foot of the throne, when the Queen, placing 
a sword across his shoulders, commanded him to rise — 
Sir John Potter. 

Little more than half an hour served to complete the 
ceremonies in the Exchange, when the cortege, preceded 
by Sir John, returned to Worsley by way of Exchange 
Street, St Ann's Square, St Ann's Sti-eetj Deansgate, 
Bridge Street, to the triumphal arch, where his worship 
transferred his charge to the Mayor of Salford. 

With the exception of Peel Park and Piccadilly, perhaps 
St Ann's Square wore the gayest, most winsome look 
during that brief celebration, which has been termed " ever 
memorable." Being crossed by a double arch, the large 
lamp-post forming the centre support, it presented, in the 
words of the songster, " a sweet smiling heyday." A 
light frame of woodwork was plentifully yet tastefully 
wreathed with evergreens and flowers, bound on by broad 
blue ribbon ; its illumination being also provided for by an 
ample supply of lamps. Thus useful and ornamental, it 
was admirably suited to the occasion, winning every one's 
approval. Doubtless the triumphal arches at Victoria and 
Albert Bridges were more elaborate affairs ; but does it 
not seem an expensive mistake to erect for one day's 
service laborious structures that might almost rival in 
endurance the famous triumphal arch of Marius, yet 
standing intact at Orange, near the borders of Province 
and Languedoc, its recognised age being two thousand 
years .' 

After the departure of the royal and noble visitors, the 
multitudinous gazers strolled leisurely through the princi- 
pal streets of the two boroughs, making a complete tour 

94 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

of inspection. As the shades of evening closed in, the 
illumination, gradually extending, soon became general, 
and was in many places so strikingly beautiful, that the 
London press admitted the best efforts of the capital in 
that direction had been eclipsed. 

To enjoy the fresh attraction came a fresh influx of 
strangers — as if the town were not already thronged 
enough : the proverbial assurance, that much shall have 
more, was exemplified with a vengeance. The occupants 
of platforms, balconies, or other high places during the 
day, had betaken themselves, at night, to carriages, cabs, 
omnibuses, carts, with the idea of being comfortably 
driven round the town at their own pace and pleasance, 
whilst the pedestrians were struggling on the pathways. 
Was ever an idea more fallacious ! Every vehicle within 
a wide circle had been engaged. Each was placed, upon 
arrival, behind its immediate predecessor, and strictly 
kept, like a returned transport, under police surveillance. 
In this way the front streets, from end to end, with the 
openings leading thereto, were literally filled, the result 
being a dead-lock. The pedestrians had a slightly better 
chance of moving onward, though very slowly. We 
remember seeing and sympathising with a large number 
of those carriage-ridden pleasure-seekers. They sat 
motionless as mummies in the darkness of a back street, 
their only prospect being the gloomy churchyard or the 
gloomier river, imagination meanwhile tantalising them 
with the beautiful stars, beaming transparencies, brilliant 
crowns, glittering devices, of the grand illumination just 
beyond their ken. This last link of the extended chain 
occupied the Old Apple Market, pointing towards thd; 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 95 

Irwell. Returning homeward in the early hours of the 
watch^ we found the vehicles still there, but minus their 
occupants, who had abandoned both carriages and horses, 
taking wisely, though tardily, to the use of their own feet. 
Not until one or two o'clock in the morning, as the streets 
became relieved of wearied perambulators, could any con- 
veyances make reasonable progress. 

On Saturday morning, at Worsley, two or three note- 
worthy incidents occurred. At eight o'clock a deputation 
of the workmen's singing-classes from Manchester, under 
the direction of Mr Robert Weston, arrived at the Hall to 
warble a matinale under the Queen's window. Being 
already afoot, Her Majesty desired the minstrels to chant 
their melody within the mansion, where they acquitted 
themselves to the satisfaction of all the listeners, the 
sovereign lady included. They commenced with " Lo ! 
the early beams of morning," and this was followed by 
a spirited chorale, " Now pray we for our country." 
A touch of romance lends interest to this musical com- 
pliment of Mr Weston's, whilst a gleam of patriotism 
illuminates the chosen words : — 

" Now pray we for our country, 
That England long may be, 
The holy, and the happy. 
And the gloriously free. 

" Who blesseth her is blessed ! 
So peace be in her walls. 
And joy in all her palaces. 
Her cottages and halls ! " 

Scarcely had the singers departed when the Queen's 
attention was drawn to another attraction. The scholars. 

96 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

to the number of fourteen hundred, educated upon 
the Earl of Ellesmere's estate, were congregated in the 
grounds, accompanied by their teachers and ministers. 
Flags, bannerets, and juvenile bands were not lacking ; 
briefly, it was the Peel Park display repeated in miniature, 
even to the customary address, the anthem, the cheers, 
and the brilliant surroundings. After the Queen had 
expressed her delight at the scene, the scholars were 
marched to the landing-stage to witness the regal 
embarkation in the state barges. The royal party were 
accompanied to Patricroft Station by. the Earl and 
Countess of Derby, the Earl and Countess of Wilton, and 
other notables already named. The triumphal journey 
terminated about eight o'clock the same evening at 
Windsor Castle. 

The store of Manchester loyalty was not quite 
exhausted at Her Majesty departure : if the flame 
had subsided, occasional sparks were still emitted. At 
Patricroft Station, " Royal copies " of Bradshaw's " Illus- 
trated Guide " and maps of the line were handed to Prince 
Albert as a graceful farewell. In the wake of those 
utilities followed other specimens of Manchester literature. 
Books elegantly bound, stanzas daintily printed on satin, 
and headed " Unfurl the proud banners," were transmitted 
to the palace, written acknowledgments being returned 
from London and Balmoral to the respective authors. 
Other tributary bards were content to express their 
devotion in the " Poet's Corner " of the newspapers, or 
in the convenient form of a pamphlet' At the Exchange 
on the Monday succeeding the visit, a grand ball was 
held in commemoration thereof — a lengthy list of names 

Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 97 

showing that the ladies and gentlemen of the locality 
freely responded to the loyal invitation to 

" Come and trip it as you go 
On the light fantastic toe." 

Shortly afterwards (in November 185 1), the building 
in which this ball was held received a new title, the 
word "Royal" being officially prefixed to the name of 
Manchester Exchange. Another abiding memento of 
the regal visit is the marble statue of Queen Victoria 
adorning Peel Park, and a large oil painting at present 
hanging in the picture gallery of the same building 
further illustrates the event. 

Towards the close of the month of October, Commerce, 
having feasted her eyes and indulged her inclinations 
to the full extent, saw the necessity of resuming her 
business avocations. The time had arrived when the 
" working-day world " must put aside its Sunday-clothes. 
So Mr Capes, the auctioneer, was forthwith summoned 
to disperse (in the Town Hall), at the ominous fall of 
his hammer, all the costly and magnificent paraphernalia 
— even to the throne and canopy — embellishing the 
Exchange. At the Salford Town Hall, on the following 
day, a similar dispersing process was performed by Mr 
Fletcher, who there sold the whole of the decorations used 
in the Pavilion at Peel Park. 

With a memory fairly retentive, we have yet sought 

extraneous aid in describing the vivid realities of that 

eventful Friday and its manifold surroundings. Memory, 

resembling certain barristers, works all the more willingly 


9 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

for an occasional " refresher ; " so we have refreshed our 
recollection accordingly, mainly in the reliable yet 
ephemeral literature called forth by the occasion, or 
in the various newspaper reports (illustrated and other- 
wise) issued at the time. 



"Behold Mancuniuni, infant town ! 
A straggling fort and huts fuU rude, 
Deep in the forest's solitude." 

"Irwell," by J. Anthony. 

STANDING on the well-worn historic ground of Knot 
Mill, we are confronted by historians, speculative 
theorists, and bards in full congress. As we wish to wear 
as little as possible of borrowed plumage, we will try to 
keep clear of the " footprints " already left on our local 
sands. Except by way of illustration, or occasional cor- 
rection, it is not our intention to repeat matters already 
familiar to every intelligent citizen. Leland, Camden, 
HoUingworth, Whitaker are available for reference ; while 
the inquiring spirits who seek the more modern chron- 
icles may find them on the shelves of public or private 
libraries. We aim rather to present items of interest over- 
looked by previous writers, or that have risen to view since 
the pen of our latest historian — Mr Harland — was suddenly 
laid aside. We need not fear any lack of material. 
Time is always bringing something to the light, — ever 
lifting the lid of the old oak chest to reveal the skeleton 
within. This is our recompense for all that Time keeps 

100 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

taking away from our hearts and homes. We of the 
present generation may consider ourselves as creditors on 
Time's unavailable assets — his expended years and ex- 
hausted treasures. 

Of the primitive Britons, who roamed in the woodland 
hereabout, few, if any, authentic remains are preserved in 
the museums of the district. But their Roman vanquishers 
have left indelible marks. In addition to the coins, urns, 
inscribed stones, and other articles so frequently pictured 
and explained, we still retain a tangible remnant of their 
rude stronghold, the present appearance of which clearly 
bears out the statement of the Rev. John Whitaker, that 
the builders "copiously poured their mortar upon it." For 
this interesting relic, nearly two thousand years old, we 
are indebted to the antiquarian taste and feeling of the 
late Lord Francis Egerton, afterwards Earl of Ellesmere, 
who watched its safety during the excavations at Knot 
Mill. He caused this fragment of the castle wall to be 
supported by brickwork, and then legally secured it from 
future molestation. Thus left to crumble by piecemeal 
before its natural enemy, the substantial handiwork of 
Agricola's soldiers bids fair to outlast many more genera- 
tions of our fleeting race. We have purposely omitted to 
name the exact location of the foundation-wall, because it 
stands within private business premises, and too many 
curious visitors would interfere with trade. Another 
reason may be recorded. If every thoughtless or over- 
sanguine person were to bring away a piece of the mortar 
as a proof of his discovery, the praiseworthy design of 
Lord Francis would be defeated, and Manchester would 
Boon be deprived of its oldest historical relic. It has been 

JJJL^^W^.. - 

Knot Mill. loi 

suggested in print that the rare antique should be im- 
mediately surrounded by a substantial iron railing ; and 
surely it well deserveth such cheap preservation. 

Another famous castle was once constructed (by tradi- 
tion) at Knot Mill, but of this we have failed to discover a 
vestige. Time has dealt less tenderly with Tarquin than 
with Agricola. Not a stone of the " Knot Mill Giant's 
Tower " has been unearthed by delver or antiquary ; not 
even a fragment of the bason or gong that was suspended 
at the gate or on the wayside tree as a challenge, and 
upon which Sir Lancelot du Lake rang his hollow-sound- 
ing acceptance. The fight that ensued can scarcely be 
considered a fair even-handed contest, such as English- 
men love, seeing that the Knight of the Round Table was 
aided by Viviana, the fairy of the waters — a kind of British 
Undine — presumably the first of the Lancashire witches, 
though Mr Halliwell would give the priority to Mother 
Cuthbert, a much less winsome fay. Further, Sir Lancelot, 
by sheer accident, got possession of Tarquin's magical 
sword of sharpness, and the luckless giant was immediately 
decapitated with his own weapon — the Fates and the fairies 
being alike against him. A date has been assigned to this 
celebrated duel, but as figures are fatal to all traditions, 
we withhold the statistical test. Our search for a satisfy- 
ing relic of Tarquin proved more successful at Chetham's 
College than at Knot Mill. On the panelled ceiling of one 
of the antique rooms in that institution may still be seen, 
in excellent preservation, a polished oak carving of Sir 
Tarquin's head, the carnivorous worthy being in the act of 
enjoying his usual morning meal — that is, masticating 
" somebody's darling." The victim is evidently a baby, as 

I02 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

a tender limb is projecting from each side of the giant's 
mouth. The metrical legend connected herewith is as old 
as the reign of Elizabeth, though the local names intro- 
duced are of more recent date. We name the era of 
Queen Elizabeth on the authority of Bishop Percy ; but 
Dr Hibbert-Ware attributes it to " a humble and anony- 
mous minstrel of the reign of James the First." Either 
way, a year or two may be all the difference. As the 
present version does not appear in any of the histories of 
the town or county, and is absent from the various books 
of Lancashire ballads, it may be welcomed in the pages of 
these Memorials : — 


" Within this ancient British land, 
In Lancashire, I understand, 
Near Manchester, there lived a knight of fame. 
Of a prodigious strength and might. 
Who vanquished many a worthy knight, 
A giant great, and Tarquin was his name. 

" And in those days sprang up a precious gem. 
Who wore the golden diadem — 
Prince Arthur, lawful heir of Britain's king. 
Who, for the honour of all Christendom, 
Twelve bloody battles fierce he won, 
Whose name and fame throughout the world did ring. 

" Full many a valiant nobleman 
Resorted to Prince Arthur then — 
Such warlike fame was nowhere to be found — 
Their lives and fortunes prostrating 
Unto that most victorious king, 
And styled themselves Knights of the Table Round. 

Knot Mill. 103 

" A valiant knight amongst the rest, 
Whose noble acts I find expressed, — 
His name recorded is Lancelot du Lake ; 
A mighty giant he pulled down, 
Who lived near Shrewsbury's fair town, 
With his keen sword his life away did take. 

" When fortune thus on him did smile. 
And he had rested him awhile, 
To sport and play within his princely court. 
Till of such tidings he did hear 
From out of famous LancEishire, 
He thither rode to see some princely sport. 

" From Winchester he's gone with speed, 
Well mounted on his stately steed, 
Until at length to the Hoozend he came. 
Where he good entertainments found 
At noble Mosley's, then renowned, 
Who lived there in great repute and fame. 

" Then did he ride through a cloudy desert wild, 
Frequented by no man or child, 
Where stately trees have lain since Noah's flood ; 
Firwood and oak, there to be found, 
AH in that deluge then renowned. 
Deep buried there, within that trembling mud. 

" Then did he ride through a forest wide. 
Until a damsel he espied, 
Who asked his business and required his name. 
' My name is Lancelot dU Lake, 
Who venture for my country's sake.' 
Said she, ' Great sir, all countries spread your fame ; 

" ' And I wUl tell you of a knight, 
Of a prodigious strength and might. 
Who has imprisoned threescore knights and four. 
Knights of King Arthur's Table Round, 
In chains and fetters he keeps bound ; 
Such villainy I ne'er did hear before.' ^ 

I04 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" Then did this trusty fair maid-guide 
Conduct him to a river-side 

Near the Knot Mills— this knight of great renown, 
And straight up to the castle gate, 
Where Tarquin long had taken up his seat, 
In the Lodge fields, near Manchester fair town. 

" Likewise she showed him to a tree, 
Which he rode up to valiantly, 
Whereon there hung a copper bason fair ; 
Within this bason it was writ — 
' Who values not his life a whit, 
Let him adventure to strike on't if he dare.' 

" This did Sir Lancelot so provoke, 
He struck so hard, the bason broke ; 
Immediately when Tarquin heard the sound. 
He drove a horse before him straight. 
Whereon a knight, both sick and weak. 
Upon that horse he brought with him fast bound. 

" ' Villain ! ' said Lancelot, ' worst of men, 
Hast brought this object from thy den. 
This poor distressed knight, weak and unable ? 
I'll make thee know before we part. 
And likewise give thee thy desert. 
For wronging thus the Knights of the Round Table.* 

" Then from the Ravenous these words did sound — 
' If thou be of the Table Round,' 
Said Tarquin, speedily, 
' And hither come in rage and spite. 
In single combat me to fight. 
Both thee and them I utterly defy,' 

" ' That's over much,' Sir Lancelot replied ; 
' I'll quickly tame thy. haughty pride.' 
Crouching their spears, they at each other ran, 
With ghastly looks most furiously. 
Resolved their manhood for to try. 
More like two savage beasts than sons of men. 

Knot Mill. 105 

" They wounded were, and bled full sore, 
Each wrestling in his princely gore ; 
Then willingly for breath they both did stand, 
Till Tarquin he began to relent, 
When breath was lost and blood was spent. 
And said, ' Brave knight, I pray thee hold thy hand ; 

" ' And tell to me what knight thou art — 
Thou art a knight of great desert, 
And like a knight I hate most mortally ; 
I'll freely grant thee thy request, 
Likewise deliver all the rest. 
Upon condition that thou art not he.' 

" ' That's well then,' Lancelot replied, 
' Thy proffer cannot be denied ; 
But unto me his name I pray thee tell.' 
' His name is Lancelot du Lake, — 
Thoughts of him make my heart to ache ; 
He slew my brother, whom I loved well ; 

'"I wish I had that villain here, 
I'd make him pay for it fuU dear.' 
' Thy wish thou hast — I'm Lancelot du Lake ; 
I slew thy brother manfully 
Near to the town of Shrewsbury.' 
Quoth Tarquin, ' Now my hfe lies at stake.' 

" Then to 't they went with downright blows, 
Who gets the victory no one knows : 
Like furies they did fight with might and main ; 
The echoes of their blows resound — 
Their horses slain, they fought on ground. 
Resolving one or both for to be slain ; 

" Till Tarquin, then, for want of breath 
And loss of blood, yielded to death, 
His life resigned upon that fatal day ; 
Then taking keys of the castle door. 
From prison threescore knights and four 
With cheerful hearts the victor brought away. 

io6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" Thus have 1 for my country's sake 
Adventured all these pains to take, 
Hoping they wiU my labours gratify 
For bringing ancient things to light ; 
Here in this book I now do write, 
Trusting they may some profit find thereby." 

We have transcribed the foregoing Manchester ballad 
from a privately-printed volume, " Family Memoirs of 
the Mosleys," written by the late Baronet, whose literary 
plan might be advantageously adopted by others* Why 
should not every family with a history possess an 
extended and illustrated " Debrett " of its own ? If the 
record can be enriched with a metrical legend, so much 
the rarer. Who shall estimate th6 valUe of " Chevy Chase " 
to the Perciesi or of the "Luck of Eden Hall" to the 
Musgraves, or of the " Eagle and Child " to the House of 
Stanley ? To Lancashire folks, the Eagle and Child is 
virtually the Derby arms ; they need no other, the popular 
legend being all-sufficient ; and to this favourite emblem 
they are sans changer. Often have we marvelled that the 
tradition of the Eagle and Child, narrated so frequently in 
prose, has not yet been versified in true ballad measure. 
Once or twice we have been on the verge of attempting to 
forge the missing and connecting link ; but as there is now 
no Manchester Catnach to pay half-a-crown for the copy- 
right, nor any Ned Wrigley to fiddle it along the high- 
ways and byways to the great joy of the Bohemians, we 
have lost heart in the subject — and heartiness is every- 

* Sir Oswald Mosley died at his seat, RoUeston Hall, Staffordshire, in May 
1871, in his eighty-seventh year. The following October saw RoUeston Hall 
wellnigh destroyed by fire. 

Knot Mill. 107 

thing in a ballad for the million. Compared with such 
metrical reliques of legendary lore^^and keeping in view 
the expressed purpose of floating the family name — of 
what earthly use to the forgotten builders are the ever- 
lasting Pyramids? Coming nearer home, take a peep 
into Mottram Church, where a glance at the sculptured 
figures now jestingly termed "Old Rowe and his Wife" 
will reveal the ultimate uselessness of a costly monument, 
even when formed of the purest marble. Better to imitate 
the example of the Ladye of Branksome ; summon the 
Last Minstrel, and seek in his heart-felt lay the envied 
elixir of life and remembrance so vainly sought elsewhere. 
In Sir Oswald Mosley's book a fanciful idea of our own 
is partly embodied. We have frequently thought how 
charming it would be to sing, or say, or portray the glories 
of our ancient house — supposing us to be allied to the 
"old nobilitie" extolled by my Lord John Manners. 
How gratifying, forsooth, to our feeling of nationality, to 
our justifiable pride of home, could we linger in our 
portrait gallery, after the manner of Sir Roger de 
Coverley, and narrate the story of each venerated ancestor, 
as he or she silently, but none the less eloquently, surveyed 
and encouraged our exertions ! Such domestic stories — 
blending occasionally with the national chronicles — we 
might reveal in plenty. Some romantic episode, some 
touching trait, attaches to the life of every man ; and where 
is the woman to whom romance or pathos is a stranger ? 
So far as practicable, we would tell the tale — with the 
pen or upon the easel — on the spot where the incident 
occurred. If treating of the Vernons, and of Dorothy in par- 
ticular, we would sit beside her doorway (now half ruined. 

io8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and wholly encompassed with ivy), and muse beneath the 
same stars and the same moon that silvered the path of 
the devoted maiden. Thus inspired, it were easy to show, 
with due effect, the lady's secret flight from Haddon Hall ; 
her hasty passage along the terrace ; her exit by the 
famous steps (pictured a thousand times) ; and the com- 
pletion of her elopement within the shadow of friendly 
trees — leaving home and all for love. 

Although the mill which gives a secondary title to this 
chapter is moderately old, it cannot be traced to King 
Canute— ^the assumed sponsor to numerous knots and knuts 
throughout the country. There is little doubt it was built 
in the beginning of the sixteenth century, when it was 
termed Hulme's Mill. A licence, dated loth November 
1509, to construct a dam, was granted to Elyse Prestwych 
by Thomas West, Lord de la Warr. In 1552, at the 
Court Leet, " Edmund Prestwyche, Esq., is ordered to take 
down a yate between the town of Manchester and the 
[river] of Medlock, near unto Holms Mill, afore the Feast 
of St Martin in winter. Three shillings and fourpence " 
[penalty]. Again, in 1601, " That Edmund Prestwiche, 
Esq., shall take down a yate between the town of Man- 
chester and the Water of Medlock, near unto Hulme's 
Mylne. Three shillings and sixpence." Squire Prest- 
wich seems to have had infinite trouble with the said yate, 
which perversely withstood the official orders, until, in 
1603, a fine of twenty shillings was imposed. Some years 
prior to the latter date, the mill was in the possession of 
" John Knott, of Knott Mylne," who was buried on the 8th 
of May 1597; and hence originated the appellation still 
existent. In 1623 the Court Leet records, in defining the 


Knot Mill. 109 

boundaries of the town, allude to " Knot Bridge, towards 
Hulme." Leaping to the middle of January 1793, we 
find the mill was destroyed by fire. On the loth of 
December 1799, the subjoined advertisement appeared 
in the Mercury : — " To be sold by auction, all that capital 
mill commonly called or known by the name of Knot 
Mill, in Manchester, with a four-stalled stable and cart- 
house nearly adjoining the same ; together with the 
machinery for grinding logwood, fustick, &c., provided 
with a powerful steam-engine of a cylinder of twenty-four 
inches ; and four French millstones fit for grinding flour, 
&c. All which premises were lately occupied by Joshua 
Wrigley and Company, and are subject only to a small 
chief or ground rent of twenty-eight pounds and sixpence 
per annum. The land upon which the above buildings are 
erected, with the vacant land adjoining, contains three 
thousand three hundred and sixty-three square yards." 
The last occupant of the mill, Mr Johnson, died in 1810. 
A portion of the old wall still remains in its original 
position, and is incorporated with the factory formerly 
known as Mr Cough's. The outlines of two windows, on the 
Hulme side, are plainly discernible, though now bricked up. 
In Hewitt Street, at its most distant point from Knot 
Mill, our diminutive underground river, the Tib, may 
still be seen emerging from its obscurity to embrace the 
Medlock. After its escape from beneath a segmental arch 
of brick, it has an open course of nearly one hundred yards, 
when it enters the larger stream. The builder's yard in 
which the brook emerges, and sometimes overflows, may 
be entered from Hewitt Street as aforesaid, but only upon 
sufferance, and not too often. Here, as at the castle 

I lo Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

wall, curiosity will find itself a trespasser ; and in order 
that its mysterious movements may be duly watched, the 
labourer will rest upon his spade, whilst the joiner checks 
his saw in the middle of the plank, and the boy's hammer 
is suddenly silenced before the nail is driven to the head. 
A poor prisoner from its source near Miles Platting, the 
Tib seems the Silvio Pellico of rivulets, while lacking the 
prison flower to alleviate its gloom. Yet once it had a 
cluster of pleasant homesteads on its unculverted banks. 
This was "Labeiye's Ffould," sometimes called "ye Labarey 
Howses," which stood nearly upon the spot where York 
Street crosses Mosley Street, but below the present sur- 
face level. The origin of the place is indicated by a Court 
Leet entry in the year 1586 : — "That one Thomas Baylie 
hath encroached in the Market stid lane near to the way to 
Labrey's house." A still earlier notice of the family name 
appears in Baines, to the effect that Stephen Hulme, of 
Hulme, married, in 1524, Alice, daughter and co-heiress to 
Robert Labrey. Onwards, from the former date, the nest- 
ling fold and its residents are frequently mentioned in the 
Cathedral registers ; but they disappeared together from 
those useful chronicles when the modern streets were 
formed and the Tib was culverted. It seems the Tib 
wandered through the town, open and harmless enough, in 
the time of Tim Bobbin ; for he banters Whitaker for ele- 
vating a brook into a river, and avers that, on reading the 
reverend -historian's florid description, he w^ent to view the 
Tib, but could not find one drop of water in it, except 
some purple liquid issuing from a dyehouse. So we may 
assume the Milnrow pedagogue postponed his angling or 
boating diversion. 

Knot Mill. 


" Many estates in Manchester," writes Mr Aston, " have 
this petite river for their boundaries ; and the name of 
River Tib is to be found in many writings by which the 
possessors claim a right to hold their property. In all pro- 
bability, a few more years will make the existence of such 
a stream, dignified as it has been by the name of river, a 
matter of doubt, and perhaps the report classed with the 
legend of Sir Lancelot's killing the giant in Castle Field." 
To prevent this prophecy from falling literally true, we 
have summoned our artist to the rescue. 

Humphreys' Garden, bounded on one side by Alport 
Lane (now the upper end of Deansgate), was familiar to 
our great-grandsires. The sudden decease of the original 
proprietor was announced in Harrop's Mercury of April 
5i 1757 ; ^i^d the same print, twenty-one years later, con- 
tains the following advertisement anent his floral acres : — 
"To be sold, all that plot of land called Humphreys' 
Garden, now divided into twenty gardens." A final notice 
of the latest owner appears in the register of burials for 
July 1782, as thus : — "Robert Humphreys, of Humphreys' 
Gardens, Knot Mill." But long before the advent of the 
Humphreys family, the gardens and orqhards, the stiles 
and the field-paths, " lying in y" Deane'sgate," formed the 
subject-matter of frequent arrangements in the ancient 
manorial courts. 

To us there is a charm in the quaint oldrfashioned names 
and places which the city has ruthlessly swallowed up, 
and we like to point them out atid linger over them. 


aldport: its lodge and park. 

" Hath sentinel of stern Cromwell 
E'er watched thine ancient hall ? 
Thine olden bower hath seen the hour 
Of royal Charles' fall ; 
; O'er thy threshold hath warrior bold 
E'er passed with manly tread ? 
Have drums e'er beat around thy seat, 
Or martial banners spread ? " 

Elijah Ridings. 

IF it be true that one man in his time may play many 
parts, as an old favourite, still young, has averred, it 
is equally certain that one locality, in the lapse of ages, 
may bear many names. Aldport is a case in point. As 
Aldeparc, Aldport, Over Alporde, Nether Alteport, Al- 
porton, Hooperton, and lastly Alport Town, it has been 
locally known. Still more marked is its change of every 
feature. Well may we speak of Time working wonders. 
Let any inquiring pedestrian (the New Zealander, it may 
be, when weary of moralising on London Bridge) tra- 
verse the ground assigned to ancient Aldport. Commenc- 
ing at Quay Street, let him proceed along the present 
Deansgate to the Medlock at Knot Mill, thence cross- 
ways from the Irwell to the Tib. When he has explored 
the labyrinth of high prison-like walls until utterly sur- 

Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 113 

feited with the " endless meals of bricks," bid him, while 
taking reasonable rest and refreshment, try to realise the 
sylvan heritage of the Gresleys, the La Warres, the 
Derbys, the Mosleys. The wood of Aldport (say the 
Manchester archives, as their contents reach us through 
Kuerden and Harland) comprised a mile in circum- 
ference; mention being also made of its eyries of spar- 
row-hawks, its herons, and eagles, and honey of bees. 
At the survey of the manor in 1322, Aldport contained 
ninety-five acres ; thirty of these being heath, twenty 
pasture, and two meadow-land. The Medlock ran glit- 
tering through the middle of the lord's fee. A still earlier 
reference occurs in a paper contributed by the late Sir 
Oswald Mosley to " Corry's History of Lancashire," 
wherein it is stated that Robert Grelle, in 1281-82 died 
seised (amongst various effects) of a small' park called 
Aldeparc. Passing from this family to the La Warres, 
the noble and reverend owner gave it, with other pro- 
perty, in 142 1, to the newly-coUegiated church. Soon 
afterwards the park and the lodge contained therein 
were held by the Warden, and continued to be enjoyed 
by his successors in office until the dissolution of the 
College in 1 547, when the King granted them, with other 
of the church lands, to Edward third Earl of Derby. A 
little later, there arose a snug fold of homesteads on the 
site of the present Alport Town : on the Castle Field side 
stood the park. It was here, in 1586, that Camden saw 
the foundation of the Roman stronghold ; and here, like- 
wise, that Leland made his earlier observations while 
passing through the town. To these antiquarian chiefs 

we lift our modern cap. The lodge was placed near the 


114 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ground of our existing hay-market. These positions have 
been indicated in the " Family Memoirs of the Mosleys." 

As Edward " Lord of Darby " (so the quaint itinerist 
styled him) was essentially the Manchester Earl, a brief 
outline of his eventful career will prove interesting to 
Manchester readers. Some lives t6em with romance, 
while others are eventless and barren. Earl Edward 
belonged to the first division, a series of striking scenes 
marking his progress through life. Resembling a fav- 
ourite actor, he seemed always performing — seldom absent 
from the stage. His father, the second Earl, dying in 
152 1, during the minority of his son, left the young heir 
to the guardianship of Cardinal Wolsey and divers others, 
minutely set forth in the " History of the House of Stanley." 
Wolsey, it appears, had read the nursery story of the 
children in the wood, profiting thereby after the manner 
of the selfish uncle, and forthwith lined his own nest with 
some of the feathers belonging to his young ward. On 
coming of age in 1527, the Earl was appointed by Henry the 
Eighth to attend this same Cardinal on an embassy to the 
French king. Five years later he waited upon Henry at 
his interview with Francis the First at Boulogne, and at 
the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn : in the same year 
he was made a Knight of the Bath. On the revolt of 
the Northern men, termed the Pilgrimage of Grace, he 
promptly raised the forces of Lancashire and Cheshire, 
and subdued the insurrection. On the accession of 
Edward the Sixth, the Earl was elected a Knight of the 
Garter, and at the close of that brief reign he was ap- 
pointed Lord High Steward of England by Queen Mary. 
Upon receiving this appointment he set out from Lathom, 

Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 1 1 5 

most nobly attended, to meet Her Majesty, having in his 
retinue, says the family historian, "upwards of eighty 
esquires, all clad in velvet, and two hundred and eighteen 
servants in liveries." Those were the days when Earls 
were sometimes king-makers. When Elizabeth ascended 
the throne, she created him Chamberlain of Chester, with 
a seat at her Privy Council. While holding the latter 
offices, the Earl's connection with Manchester grew closer, 
and he took the active control of local affairs as High 
Steward of the Court Leet, Weaning himself from 
London life, we find his name recorded, year by year, as 
the Baron's presiding officer, or judge, until 1567, when, 
on account of declining health, he selected a deputy to 
act in his stead. Finally,' quitting his lodge and "new 
park " at Aldport, he retired to his country seat, Lathom 
House, whence was written his last letter on Manchester 
affairs, dated 19th of July 1572, only three months prior 
to his decease. Thus ended his prosperous career, at the 
age of sixty-six. We can scarcely state, in closing this his- 
tory, that the Earl was duly gathered, like Abraham, to his 
fathers, inasmuch as the family resting-place in Burscough 
Priory had been rendered useless by the demolition of 
that monastic edifice. " Only two pillars belonging to 
the centre arch," Mr Roby informs us, " are now remain- 
ing." The Earl, after lying in state six weeks, was in- 
terred, in obedience to his will, in a new tomb within 
Ormskirk Church; and thither, in turn, his descendants 
have been silently conveyed, even to the recent Baron, 
Edward Geoffrey, who was as good and as great, accord- 
ing to the spirit of his age, as was his Manchester pre- 
decessor of three hundred years ago. 

1 16 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

From the Adlington MSS., preserved in the Chetham 
Library, we derive a metrical tribute which will be wel- 
come for its rarity. It was written, presumably, by a 
member of the Legh family, during the reign of Queen 



Derby and Knight of y'^ moste honorable Order of 
THE Garter who deceased the xxiiij™ day of October 

"Beholde heare lyeth closed in claye a wight of worthy fame 
Of lordly line of statly stocke and Standle was his name 
In Man he ruled as a kinge and theire did use suche holesome lawe 
As those that guided under him w' ease kepte theim in awe 
He also Earle of Derbye was as his forefathers were 
Whear he no lesse auctoritye then they before did beare 
Then Knlghte of Garter he was made a order sure 
Lo his deserte as princes handes suche fauo' did procure 
But liuinge in prospertie deuoyde of care and stryfe 
And fortune fauoringe thus on him in maner all his lyfe 
Colde pompous pryde or glorye darre from vertue drawe his minde 
No he wolde not degenerat from that he was by kinde 
Or did he sease to ayde the poore w' meat w' tonge w' hande 
No sure his lyke for all respectes was not w'in this lande 
How manye lame and impotente did he w' payne and toyle 
Reduce unto theire yfecte healthe w'in theire country soyle 
How manye did he daylie feede whome nede did pinch before 
How manie haue ye nowe a dayes so careful! for the poore 
How liberall was he to his men how careful! for his friende 
How good unto his tenante still euen unto his latter ende 
O god his faythe unto his prince surmountinge was alwayes 
As well was proued by that he did in these his later dayes 
All vertuous actes he did embrace and vyces did deteste 
What shoulde I saye amongest the good he was accompted beste 
Which causeth now the poore to mourne w' manye weepinge eye 
His men his frendes his tenaunte eke to playntes theimselfes applye 

Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 1 1 7 

Our noble Queene bewayleth the losse of suche a precious perle 
A thousande times (no dowte she sayth) he was a worthye Erie 
In helthe and sicknes well he liued and well he toke his ende 
Wolde God eiche one wolde learne by him his spotted lyfe tamende 
The heauens nowe doe possesse his soule the earth his corps retaynes 
His passed lyfe a spectacle for others yet remaynes." 

Several competent authorities inform us that the Derby- 
property at Aldport was sold by William,, the sixth Earl, 
in 1599, to Sir Randle Brereton, who immediately re-sold 
it, and in 1602 it passed to the Mosley family, in whose 
possession the sylvan acres long remained. But, previous 
to the introduction of fresh characters, suppose we add 
a small scene showing the primitive sport and pastime of 
our fore fathers and mothers. During several reigns the 
archery butts in Alport Lane (merged in Deansgate in 
1812) were almost an institution of the town. Other butts 
were affixed at Old Garratt. At these targets the males 
were expected — ^yea, commanded — to practise daily, in 
order that they might be enabled to emulate their heroic 
ancestors who triumphed at Cressy and Poictiers. During 
the reign of Elizabeth archery gradually declined, until 
iat length it became superseded by Brown Bess and the 
ramrod. Another reason has been vouchsafed for the 
occasional neglect of the butts. It would seem that the 
daughters of Eve were as tempting at Aldport as their 
mother had been in Eden ; and it was no uncommon thing 
for the beaux to forsake their arrows for the purpose of 
toying with the shafts of Cupid. 

Aldport Lodge and Park, with the fields adjoining, were 
peacefully ranged and enjoyed by the Mosleys until the 
breaking out of the civil war in 1642, when Lord Strange, 

1 1 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

at the invitation of the owner,, fixed his headquarters in 
the old home. "Thus we come to Manchester siege, of 
which I will not give a full and particular account, because 
it is already performed by several good hands." So says 
a curious pamphlet of that period, " Lancashire's Valley 
of Achor ; " and so may we repeat. " The time when it 
began," continues the same original authority, "was 
September the five-and-twentieth, the Sabbath-day, about 
nine of the clock, church time." Indeed, the worshippers 
were called from the sermon to confront the invaders. An 
attack was made upon the town from the lodge, simulta- 
neously with another from the foot of Salford Bridge. In 
the previous July a few skirmishes had taken place between 
Lord Strange and the inhabitants of Manchester, during 
which was shed the first blood of the disastrous civil war. 
To us the affray at the old bridge has always seemed 
(though we can scarcely account for the fancy) a mere 
playing at soldiers — a kind of Autumn Manoeuvre. It is 
true that one warrior was slain on the Manchester side. 
The besiegers also killed a boy who was sitting on a stile 
innocently watching fair play. One of the defenders was 
accidentally shot by an impatient gun, that went off before 
it was presented at the enemy. These three apparently 
constituted the Puritan loss during the six days' siege. 
In the published letter of an eye-witness the number is 
raised to four, " whereof two being by accident, and two 
by the enemy." A few outlying houses were set on fire, 
and, under cover of the smoke, the cavaliers attempted 
to enter the town, but failed. Perhaps the uncertain aim 
and weak blows of the Royalists may be attributed, in 
some measure, to the indecision of their humane chief, 

Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 119 

who really wished to frighten the townsfolk into submis- 
sion without hurting them — one day threatening, the next 
conciliating. His party did not escape so easily as their 
opponents. Among other casualties, Captain Standish of 
Duxbury was shot while standing at a door in Serjeant 
(now Chapel) Street. The Captain's men, on seeing the 
dangerous nature of the position, hastily decamped. At 
Aldport, the cannon planted by order of the Earl played 
— " they did but play, they did no work "—down Deans- 
gate, until the balls " made several holes in divers houses, 
and beat down part of a chimney, but little damage else 
was done" — a statement derived from John Palmer. From 
these accounts it is not difficult to gather that the Earl, 
resembling a needle between two magnets, was paralysed 
between the will and the way. Sent to treat the, Mances- 
trians as enemies, he felt them to be neighbours who ought 
to be friends. With these amiable predilections, his cannon 
was reduced to mere " sound and fury, signifying nothing," 
while his sword, whichsoever way he pointed it, wounded 
himself. The return shot of the townsmen and their rustic 
auxiliaries (who had " but one small peece ") set fire to 
Aldport Lodge, which was burned down, and never rebuilt. 
At what date its ruins were removed we are unaware ; nor 
have we been able to trace a resemblance of the mansion 
in any stage of its existence. On the evening of the sixth 
day. Lord Strange (who had then succeeded his father as 
the seventh Earl of Derby) withdrew his forces, with a 
lost vaguely estimated .at two hundred. So ended the 
short siege of Manchester. "There was little harvest 
weather that week," adds our jubilant Puritan guide ; " it 
was not reaping work, but threashing work." In his 

I20 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

peculiar phraseology, we may now " sweetly conclude this 
comfortable historie." 

It may be thought that we have treated this historic 
incident in a light spirit ; but if so, every trace of frivolity 
vanishes as we turn to the closing scene in Bolton market- 
place, where the unfortunate Earl paid the highest penalty 
for his devotion to a gentle and good-intentioned, but 
weak monarch, who could not resist the evil influence of 
sinister advisers. And when we extend our view to the 
sable block at Whitehall, where that monarch hirnself 
perished, we feel the full force of the impressive lessons 
which life is ever teaching to man. 

On taking down the timbers of the chancel roof of 
Bolton Church there was found, upon the centre boss, a 
rude carving of the Three Legs of Man, along with the 
representation of an axe having a formidable blade. This 
shows that the chancel was re-roofed shortly after the 
execution of the Earl, while the event was fresh in the 
minds of the people, who thus handed it down to posterity. 
These timbers were lying in Bolton churchyard during 
1870-71, until finally sold as waste wood. Of the rude 
carving Mr Owen has preserved a sketch, which he made 
while the boss was lying in the yard. Our artist, Mr 
Winkfield, though desirous of making the sketch more 
pleasing, has retained the facsimile character of the 
amateur carving. 

At Aldport, on the supposition of the Rev. John 
Whitaker, there stood, in the early centuries of the Chris- 
tian era, a Saxon church dedicated to St Michael. With 
that supposition we are unable to coincide ; and yet we 
are loth to express dissent, when it is so much easier, 


Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 1 2 1 

so much more agreeable, to swim with the tide of opinion 
than to press against its stream. Let us see how the case 
stands, pro and con, as the Latin says. Leland, on 
visiting Manchester during the reign of Henry the Eighth, 
observed — " Yet is in hit but one paroch church, but is a 
college." Hollingworth thus wrote : — " Shortly after Man- 
chester and a large compasse of ground neere to it was 
made a parish, at which time the parish Assheton-under- 
Lyme was within the parish of Manchester ; but afterward 
[prior to 1291, according to the new edition of Baines] 
it became a parish of it selfe, and yet was in the donation 
of the lord of Manchester." Again, "Doomsday booke 
mencions a church called St Maries in Manchester, and a 
church called St Michaels, tho of this latter I find not the 
least memorial ; probably these two churches stood in one 
churchyard, as Paul's and Gregory's in London." In the 
first volume of the new edition of Baines it is stated that 
Thomas Greslet, in March 1309, made a formal grant of 
"the advowson of the churches of Mamecestre and Ashton- 
under-Lyme to John la Warre, Knight, and Joan, his 
wife." St Michael's was first associated with Aldport by 
Whitaker in this wise :— " When the Saxons of Manchester 
were converted to the faith of the Britons among them, 
they would naturally repair immediately to the old parish 
church of the latter, and one denominated St Michael's 
existed pretty plainly (as I shall show hereafter) among 
the Saxons in Aldport." The after-showing was simply a 
conjecture that Knot Mill Fair was commemorative of the 
church's feast of dedication : in this conjecture Hibbert- 
Ware coincided. Whitaker failed to trace the origin of 
Knot Mill Fair, which still, we believe, remains a mystery. 

122 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Subsequent writers have followed easily in Whitaker's 
wake, almost taking for granted that the said church 
existed at Aldport, without producing any foundation for 
the edifice to rest upon. A recent independent doubt, 
partly coinciding with Hollingworth, was raised in a foot- 
note of Harland's " Mamecestre : " — " It has been suggested," 
observes that author, " that St Mary's [St Michael's ?] was 
not in Manchester at all, but only under Manchester, and 
at Ashton-under-Lyne, both advowsons being long held by 
the barons of Mamecestre, and Ashton church or chapel 
being appendant to that of Manchester." Two antiquarian 
students (John Owen and the late John Higson), anxious 
for a clearer knowledge, have searched into the mysteries 
of St Michael as indefatigably as the brothers Lander 
explored the secrets of the Niger. Referring to ancient 
documents, they found various allusions to Aldparc, but no 
mention whatever of a neighbouring place of worship; and 
although the older castle had left its name indelibly on a 
"Field," neither field nor fold throughout the locality had 
preserved the name of a church or of St Michael. Supported 
by these facts, they arrived at the conclusion that the sacred 
edifice named in " Doomsday book " was never situated at 
Aldport, but rather at Ashton, where, after suffering the 
natural mutations of time, St Michael's Church still 
remains. The two antiquaries considered, further, that 
Whitaker's error had occurred through his failing to remem- 
ber that Ashton was included in the parish of Manchester 
at the date of the " Doomsday " survey. 

About the corner of Priestner Street (converted to 
Liverpool Road in 1812) stood the shop of Mr John 
Holland, greengrocer, which was attacked by a riotous 

Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 123 

mob on the 21st of April in the year just cited, when 
sundry provisions were forcibly carried away. Several 
of the rioters were captured. At that period, Manchester, 
resembhng many other places, was in a dangerous state 
of excitement. Disturbances known as " Ludditing," and 
aiming chiefly at the destruction of machinery, were of 
frequent occurrence. Commencing at Nottingham, the 
mischief had spread over several manufacturing counties. 
The Deansgate riot and the Middleton fight were pro- 
ceeding simultaneously. About the same time the 
farmers' produce in our market-place was seized by a 
lawless multitude. Runners and constables were placed 
upon extra duty ; our amateur defenders, known as the 
" Watch and Ward," displayed their imposing weapons ; 
while the military — no longer a standing army — was 
hurried from town to village, and vice versa, by forced 
marches. Although we, the chronicler hereof, were 
"looming in the future" in 18 12, we witnessed similar 
scenes in the model privation year 1826, and again in 
1829 ; so we are enabled to realise the Luddite tumults 
with sufficient vividness. Provisions were excessively 
dear and scarce in consequence of the long-protracted 
war, and many charitable efforts were made to alleviate 
the distress. In Miller Street a soup-house was opened, 
where useful articles were sold to the poor at reduced 
prices. Still discontent prevailed. As a proof of the 
bitterness of feeling which existed amongst the working 
class against any one in authority, it may be mentioned 
that a sergeant of militia, named John Moore, who had 
been active in the performance of his duty, was murdered, 
together with a female relation, upon Ancoats Bridge; 

124 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and the bodies were thrown over the parapet into the 
canal. The sergeant and his companion left the King's 
Arms, Great Ancoats Street, about twelve o'clock on the 
Saturday night. Soon afterward a cry of " Murder " arose 
at the Canal Bridge, where several men were observed 
hastening away. Marks of pipe-clay were noticed upon 
the parapet; and in the water beneath the two bodies 
were found early on Sunday morning. The date of this 
double murder was loth May 1812. The perpetrators of 
the crime escaped detection, notwithstanding a reward of 
two hundred pounds was offered by the authorities. 

Towards the close of the same month a special com- 
mission was opened at Lancaster. During the trials it 
transpired that several persons had received threaten- 
ing letters, signed "N. Ludd, secretary to a Luddite 
Society ; " and that one of the ringleaders had been dig- 
nified with the title of General Ludd. Many prisoners 
were arraigned, and charged with participating in the 
riots. Some of these were acquitted, others being sen- 
tenced to various terms of imprisonment or transporta- 
tion ; but the eight unfortunates undernamed were 
severally found guilty and condemned : — John Howarth, 
thirty ; John Lee, forty-six ; Thomas Hoyle, twenty- 
seven ; for breaking into the house of John Holland, 
Deansgate. Job Fletcher, thirty-four ; Abraham Charlson, 
sixteen ; Thomas Kerfoot, twenty-six ; James Smith, 
thirty-one ; for setting fire to a weaving-mill at 
Westhoughton ; and Hannah Smith, fifty-four, for riot- 
ing and seizing potatoes at Bank Top. The sentences 
were carried out to the letter, without a single reprieve, on 
Saturday, i6th June, about the meridian hour. Abraham 


A Idport : its Lodge and Park. 125 

Charlson was the boy, so often alluded to in print, who 
called loudly and tearfully, when upon the scaffold, for his 
mother to come and save him. We have seen the place — 
the scene, as an actor or a painter would say — of this 
wholesale hanging. It is a dark heart-saddening corner 
at the back of Lancaster Castle, immediately overlooking 
St Mary's hillside churchyard. From their elevated posi- 
tion, the doomed ones would unite the gallows and the 
grave in their last searching view — a gloomy prospect, 
notwithstanding the chequered gleam of hope beyond. 

Of the four hundred thousand (in round numbers) 
persons now overcrowding the city, how many, or rather 
how few, are aware of the pathos, the romance, the 
poetry underlying the commercial life of their own 
dwelling-place? Truly has it been observed, in effect, 
that history, when faithfully and vividly rendered, forms 
the most beautiful and touching of all romances. 

If we cannot adorn our page, as we wish, with a picture 
of historical Aldport Lodge, we are enabled to present, 
in lieu thereof, a pleasing view of another Manchester 
seat of the Mosleys — Ancoats Old Hall. It has been 
briefly described by Mr George Richardson, author of 
" Patriotism, and other Poems," who was born in the 
vicinity of the ancient mansion. 

"Ancoats Old Hall was situated one mile east of 
Manchester. Let it be understood that by this we mean 
that the frontal fa5ade looked to the west. We have the 
authority of Dr Whitaker to say that the house was of 
Saxon origin, and the name is derived from Anna, the 
proper name of a man, and cota, a cottage. We regret 
that, after much and diligent research into old books of 

126 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the Chetham Library, we have not been able to discover 
when or by whom the edifice was erected. Neither Dr 
Whitaker, Aiken, Baines, nor Wheeler make any mention 
of this ; nor does it appear in a late work by Sir Oswald 
Mosley, Bart., entitled ' Family Memoirs of the Mosleys,' 
printed for private circulation. About 1587, we find in 
this work, by a view of the edifice at that period, that it 
was much the same as the annexed illustration, only that 
the grounds in front were simply open, with large trees 
on the spectator's left, and smaller ones, with shrubbery, 
upon the right. 

" Within the pale of our own experience, on the site of 
the present Every Street (probably named after Sir 
Edward Every), stood Love Lane, with its ivy-mantled 
cottages and green hedgerows — a pleasant rustic walk, 
and favourite solitude for lovers to pass ' the tender hour ; ' 
hence its name. The locality was altogether picturesque ; 
the lane commanded a sweet variety of scenes to the 
south-east; fertile valleys and meadows, and here and 
there the gleaming bosom of the Medlock might be seen 
circling its way, 'singing a song of peace by many a 
cottage home.' Beyond the river, undulating land, with 
clumps of trees lifting up their various-tinted heads; 
humble homesteads were scattered upon the scene, and 
smoke, the indication of inan's habitation, was seen 
circling in relief from the quiet glory of the hills which 
enfolded the landscape. . . . The fascination is over ; the 
hand of time and change have fallen upon it — the scene is 
faded — the Old Hall is no more." 



" No trace is left of the invading Dane, 

Or the armed followers of the Norman knight ; 
Gone is the dwelling of the Saxon thane, 

And lord and baron with their feudal might ; 
The ancient Irwell holds his course alone, 
And washes still Mancunium's base of stone. " 


AS we pass leisurely along historical Deansgate — the 
■*^ tiny birthplace of the now overgrown city — we will 
briefly note the derivations of its byways, when we 
happen to know them. As regards the derivation of 
Deansgate, we are unable to satisfy ourselves, and there- 
fore cannot hope to satisfy others. Various and conflicting 
are the origins given. One authority informs us that the 
street derived its name, in the year 634, from the rural 
dean. Another is equally certain that the place was 
nameless until A.D. 870, when the Danes seized Manchester, 
leaving their name behind them to indicate their line of 
march and conquest. A third historian Would induce us 
to believe the true etymology is dene, meaning a valley or 
sheltered place — a most unsatisfying hypothesis, because 
in this way each town built upon undulating ground might 
claim half a dozen Dene-gates. We must allow the 

1 28 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

reader to take his choice, and adopt the source that 
pleases him most. 

Tonman Street (probably the newest of all the lengthy 
line) was so called in compliment to the mother of the 
lord of the manor, and hkewise as a remembrancer of his 
second son, the present baronet, Sir Tonman Mosley. 
The name does not appear in the street list of our 
Directories prior to the year 1824. In this street was dis- 
covered, in the year 1839, a bronze statuette of Jupiter 
Stator, five and a half inches in height, and standing upon 
a bronze pedestal. While excavating for the foundation 
of the Hall of Science (now the Fi-ee Library), a workman 
dug out the beautiful specimen of ancient art — buried, as 
may be assumed, nigh two thousand years, and affording 
our latest evidence of Roman occupation. When found, 
one hand of the model figure contained the thunderbolts of 
Jove, in the other was extended a rod. These, together 
with the pedestal, were unfortunately soon lost. The 
statuette itself passed into the custody of Mr Leigh, 
at present Medical Officer of Health for this city, in whose 
possession it still remains. Being a Rosicrucian, he dis- 
played it to the brethren of that order at their first 
chapter in 1852. This bronze Jupiter is a marvel of 
perfection, bearing no trace of age or indication of decay. 
Here, as Ben Jonson wrote — 

" In small proportions we just beauty see. 
And in short measures life may perfect be." 

The statuette has not been pictured, we believe, save in 
these Memorials. In the same ground whence the 
Jupiter was recovered were found soon afterwards a small 


Deansgate and its Byways. 1 29 

silver coin of Trajan (now in Mr Leigh's possession), and a 
massive gold signet-ring, having on a bloodstone a figure of 
Mercury in intaglio. The ring passed into the collection 
of the late Mr Charles Bradbury, of the Crescent, Salford. 
The next in rotation, Stewart Street, bears the name of 
its principal builder, a facetious character, a coachmaker, 
long residing at the corner frontage of his own row. He 
died in 1817, aged sixty-eight. His son, the Rev. 
William Stewart, was minister of Hale Church during the 
lengthened period of forty-four years, dying in December 
1856, aged seventy-two, as recorded on a flat stone in the 
nave of his tide-girt church. One of his silent neighbours 
is the far-famed giant of the seventeenth century, the 
" Childe of Hale." At this picturesque out-of-the-way 
village, where flowers encircle many a cottage porch, and 
sombre avenues lead to the ancestral hall of the Ireland- 
Blackburnes, the residents can approach the longevity of 
Old Parr without the aid of his pills, as evidenced by two 
inscriptions which we copied from one family headstone : — 

"Richard Halsall, died September the loth, 1759, in the 

97th year of his age." 
"Esther Hallsall, died 23d March 1833, aged 104 years." : 

The latter curiosity is chiseled on each side of the stone. 
Perhaps we are loitering too long in Hale Churchyard, 
which is far removed from our subject-matter ; but when 
we reach a quiet interesting spot that wins our fancy, the 
reader will allow us to linger a little, if he please. Few of 
our retrospects are more enduring, or afford us higher 
satisfaction, than our solitary rambles in these rural places 
of rest, where Hislop contemplated" "The Cameronian's 

130 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Dream," and where Landseer pictured "The Shepherd's 

In a large prospect of Manchester and Salford, pubhshed 
between the years 1729-34, and dedicated to Lady Ann 
Bland, appears a view of " Mr Longworth's house," on the 
site of the present Longworth Street, and near to the Hay 
Market. In describing the prospect, Mr Harland has 
remarked, " This is probably the same building afterwards 
Called ' Longworth's Folly.' " But our earliest Directories 
show that " LotigWotth's Folly'' (whatever that might be) 
was situated at the corner of Princess Street and Redcross 
Street. Of the original owner of the house in question we 
have no further record, but his son and grandson, each 
described in the obituary as "James Longworth, Esq., 
of Longworth Street," lie interred in St John's Church- 
yard, Byrom Street. A great-grandson, Mr Thomas 
Longworth, was father to the lady who has become so 
widely known in connection with the Yelverton trials. 

The sight of the weighing-machine so long established 
at Aldport serves to remind us of an advertisement which 
appeared in the Mermry in January 1774. As that 
announcement shows somewhat of the antiquity of the 
machine, and also the nature of the business a century 
ago, we venture to reproduce it in part: — "Whereas the 
weighing-machine at Alport Town has been for some time 
unattended, owing to former neglect, mistakes, and mis- 
management, this is to acquaint the public that John 
Gooden, innkeeper at the Half-Moon, in Alport Town, has 
taken the said machine, where due attendance will be 
given and the strictest impartiality observed in weighing. 
This may be asser£ed in favour of the Alport Town 

Deansgate and its Byways. 131 

machine, that tallies are kept, which may be referred 
to for a year, so that gentlemen, farmers, and others may 
be enabled to settle any dispute for that time on a 
reference to the books." We are told by John Collier, in 
his "Curious Remarks on the History of Manchester," 
that he resided hereabouts in his youth, when the place 
was commonly called Hooperton or Upperton. It is, 
nevertheless, clear by our advertisement that the name 
was soon afterwards changed to the one it still bears — 
Alport Town. The more ancient designation, "Alport 
Town Fold," was retained in print so recently as 1803. 

A brief announcement in the Mercury, dated September 
23, 1760, proves that Cockpit Hill was not our only arena 
for fighting chanticleers ; and, further, that our annual races 
were then held in the autumn of the year — not at Whit- 
suntide: — "A main of cocks will be fought during the 
races, at the Cockpit, the upper end of Deansgate, between 
the gentlemen of Yorkshire and Cheshire." 

It scarcely need be stated in print that Windmill Street 
derives its name from the windmill which long crowned 
the upland, and gave interest to the landscape. Although 
we cannot describe its rise and fall in the manner of 
Gibbon, we can at least give a few intervening incidents. 
In 1766, the Mercury (Mercury was ever the people's news- 
bearer) thus enlightened its readers : — " To be sold, at the 
house of Mr James Dale, near the Exchange, the wind- 
mill at the top of Deansgate, Manchester, with the 
utensils thereto belonging, and all in very good repair. 
There are four pair of stones for grinding all sorts of dye- 
ing wood and potashes, two grindle stones, and two 
rasping-mills, a stable for three horses, and a carthouse ; 

1 3 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

also a summer-house, and large kitchen-garden well 
planted with wall fruit. The whole contains two thousand 
five hundred yards, handsomely walled and palisaded 
round. The premises are subject to a chief rent of ten 
pounds a year, payable to Edward Byrom, Esq." In 1792 
the windmill was again offered for sale, with these 
additional words — " Situate and being upon the mount at 
the top of Deansgate, and near to St Peter's Church." For 
the due understanding of these local landmarks, the reader 
must bear in mind that, prior to the year 1812, Deansgate 
did not extend beyond Peter Street. In 1793 a fire broke 
out at the mill, which in a short time destroyed it. Two 
years later the windmill, completely renovated, was once 
more in the auctioneer's hands. Again, in 1798, the 
hammer was brought into requisition; and in 181 1 (for 
the last time apparently) the " strong and well-accustomed 
windmill, with dwelling-house, and extensive garden with 
pond in the centre," were announced for public sale. 

As we have once more diverged to the locality of the 
long-vanished " Labrey's Fold," we will just add, by the 
way, a few words to the notice in our eighth chapter. 
The Labreys (wellnigh the only family of the name in this 
country) were supposed to be Flemish Huguenots, who 
sought and found in free England a refuge from the 
religious persecutions of their native land. We have ever 
felt a deep interest in all exiles for conscience' sake, and we 
trust the day is far distant when the descendants of those 
same Huguenots shall flee from England in search of 
religious freedom on other shores. But who shall say, 
when history so constantly repeats itself, and the wheel of 
Fate, with its fabled Ixion, is for ever turning round .■• In 

THE KEY (quay). 1746. 

Deansgate and its Byways. ix-i 

the year 1598 Mr and Mrs Labrey died, within one day of 
each other, probably by fever — a frequent and grievous 
visitant to Manchester in those early times, when sanitary 
regulations were lax, and officers of health were un- 
known. After the date just given, no member of the 
family is named in the Cathedral registers; the clear 
inference being, that, when the parents died, their children 
were removed by relatives or friends from Labrey's Fold, 
and, like David the Psalmist, they " came no more home 
to their father's house." 

Quay Street is its own etymologist, being the direct 
route to the Key (so spelled in 1746), or wharf, on the 
bank of the Irwell. The contracted nature of the conveni- 
ence at that date provided for the river traffic of the town 
is revealed by our engraved view. The little picture, tell- 
ing its simple story plainly enough, is full of suggestiveness 
and food for contrast. We see the limited range of Man- 
chester commerce on the very eve of the cotton-spinning 
discoveries, — only a few years prior to the introduction of 
machines by Hayes and Arkwright. It shows the last 
slumber preceding the great commercial awakening. 

While passing the remaining portion of the dull brick 
wall at the corner of Jackson's Row, we are reminded of 
an extract from the Cathedral register proving the anti- 
quity of the first burial-ground belonging to the Friends 
in Manchester : — " 1682, Nov. 4. — Giles Meadowcroft of 
Crumpsall, Gent, buried att the Quaker's Folly." The 
deed of purchase, dated 1673, describes this plot of ground 
as being outside the town of Manchester. 

In the will of Jonathan Stockton, of Monton, in the 
parish of Eccles, dated 1748, occurs the following paragraph, 

134 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

throwing a passing light upon the older history of this por- 
tion of Deansgate : — " Whereas I have several covenants 
and privileges of inheritance in two fields at the upper end 
of the Deansgate, one formerly called by the name of the 
Birch Croft, and now called by the name of Queen Street, 
and the other by the name of the Doall " (Dole). 

The street at which we next arrive bears a singular 
name, suggestive of an Oxford college — Brazennose. We 
know not the date of this strange designation, nor whence 
derived, but here resided, about the year 1793, two re- 
markable characters — Robert Owen, the philanthropist, and 
Robert Fulton, who launched, in 1807, the first steam- 
boat upon the river Hudson. These notables dwelt in 
the same boarding-house, and during their sojourn in Man- 
chester maintained a friendly, accommodating intercourse* 
At the earlier date in question, Mr Owen, then a very 
young man, was manager of Mr Peter Drinkwater's " Bank 
Top Mill." Nearly half a century later (August 5, 1839), 
we heard Mr Owen deliver an oration after laying the 
foundation-stone of the Hall of Science (now the Free 
Library), Camp Field. 

Cumberland Street calls forth another antiquated bill 
of sale, pointing out a forgotten poorhouse: — "June I2th, 
1792. — To be sold, by order of the churchwardens and 
overseers of the poor of Manchester, the fee-simple and 
inheritance of and in all that large and substantial pile of 
building, with the workshops and appurtenances thereunto 
belonging, situated, standing, and being in Cumberland 
Street, in Manchester aforesaid, now used as the Man- 

' Threading my Way," by Robert Dale Owen. 

Deansgate and its Byways. 135 

Chester poorhouse ; the site or ground-plot contains up- 
wards of one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven 
superficial square yards." In the previous June was laid 
the first stone of a new and larger workhouse near Strange- 
ways, which still serves its purpose when supplemented 
by the Crumpsall Farm and the Swinton School, — rather 
important supplements, it must be admitted. An earlier 
home for the indigent was abandoned, and thus advertised 
in April 1 764 : — " To be let, for any term not exceeding 
twenty-one years, all that large piece of building com- 
monly called the Workhouse, situate at the top of Shude- 
hill." . 

It more immediately adjoins Mayes Street, — the latter 
taking its name from Edward Mayes, who, in 162 1, left a 
charitable bequest, which was expended in land and houses 
at this spot, for the lasting benefit of the poor. In 1680 
almshouses were erected on a portion of this estate ; they 
contained accommodation for twenty-four families. The 
burial of one of the inmates is thus registered : — " 1704, 
July 24. — Samuel, son of Thomas Blackcow, of Milgate 
almshouse." For Manchester's first efiTort in this charitable 
direction, we must travel backward to the Protectorate of 
Oliver Cromwell, when a portion of the College Barn 
(situated at Hunt's Bank, between the prison and the Col- 
lege Gate House) was purchased by the churchwarden 
and overseer for the time being, in order that it might be 
" made in readiness to set the poor people on work to pre- 
vent their begging." 

In Spinning Field was born " Tommy Lye," the popular 
jockey, whom we have often seen upon the famous 
race-course at Kersal Moor, and have been amused 

1 36 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

at his manoeuvres as he successfully strove to out-general 
his juniors in silken jackets. At Doncaster and at Epsom 
his exciting triumphs were likewise manifold. -He rode 
the winners of two St Legers and three Oaks ; his prime 
favourite being the Queen of Trumps—" the turf's splendid 
monarch, the Queen ! " — on which mare he won the 
double event. "To the last," says an obituary notice 
in the Manchester Guardian, "he was a quaint, sagacious 
little fellow." During nearly half a century his home 
had been fixed at Middleham, Yorkshire, where he died, 
after a tedious illness, 27th May 1866, aged seventy- 
one. His remains were interred in the churchyard of 
East Witton. About two months previously he had 
lost his son, who was a trainer. After Lye's retirement 
from the saddle, at Manchester races 1853, "^^ might 
be seen," says a writer in the Sporting Life, "at York 
or Doncaster, with white hair, and looking quite the 
small divine in black and a white neckcloth ; and for 
a two-handed crack on old times few men were better.'' 
This brief record of the popular jockey may be supple- 
mented by a few facts touching his favourite course. 
The history of Kersal Moor and its amusements is cor- 
rectly given, so far as local authorities could guide the 
writer, in a small book, " Our Turf, Stage, and Ring." 
More recently our attention has been drawn to a file of the 
London Gazette, in which newspaper our turf announce- 
ments were usually printed before Manchester possessed 
any journal of its own. The first mention in the Gazette 
is dated 2d May 1687 — being the eve of the great 
Revolution, when monarchs were felled and upraised in 
England like the wooden kings in a skittle-alley. This 

Deansgate and its Byways. 137 

date, though not exactly the origin of horse-racing in 
Manchester, may be accepted as the nearest approach 
thereto at which we can arrive in print — a fact of some 
interest to the lovers of Lancashire sports and pastimes ; 
more especially to those who, resembling ourselves, retain 
a regretful remembrance of the wild free moorland. 
When we compare its liberties with the enclosed mercan- 
tile course we now possess, where money — not recreation 
— is the primary object, and where " Pay here " confronts 
the visitor at every turn, we feel that in the boasted march 
of improvement there is sometimes a retrograde motion. 
To any one accustomed to the freedom of Kersal Moor, 
this modern system of constraint and toll is tantamount 
to wearing a strait jacket and paying a keeper, for press- 
ing it on. We have an idea that race-courses should be 
public property, held for general recreation. The old 
moor was at liberty for healthful exercises all the year 
round — thanks to Miss Atherton, whose memory " smells 
sweet, and blossoms in the dust." It appears by the 
Gazette that Liverpool races preceded our own at Kersal ; 
although at Barlow Moor, on the southern border of 
Manchester, racing was common so far back as 1647. 
We give an extract by way of proof : — " 1671, Feb. 15th. — 
These are to give notice that the Right Hon, Charles 
Earl of Derby, with many other gentlemen of quality 
within the two counties of Lancaster and Chester, together 
with the Mayor, Aldermen, and burgesses of Liverpool, 
have set forth near the said town a five-mile course for a 
horse race, which is intended to be run on the l8th day 
of May next, and so for ever yearly at the same time." 
Passing onward to 1688, wefind the sports at "Carsall 

138 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Moore" removed from Whitsuntide to September, two 
plates, as in the previous year, yielding cheap amusement 
during two days. After 1709 our sporting announcements 
disappear from the official pages of the Gazette. They 
were transferred ten years later, we may assume, to 
the columns of our earliest newspaper, the Manchester 
Weekly Journal. The departed glories of Kersal Moor 
have been perpetuated in song by various enthusiastic 
minstrels. With one of these eulogistic strains it was our 
desire to give poetic interest to this prose narrative. But 
the writer's course, resembling the celebrated course of 
true love, does not always run smooth. Michael Wilson's 
ditty is too familiar to suit our purpose. The character- 
istic song written by Ryley, the itinerant, for the theatre 
in Spring Gardens, and chanted by him upon that 
stage in 1798, has persistently eluded our research. 
Another ballad (one of the best of its class, although 
anonymous), would be equally welcome, if obtainable. 
It is called "Victorious Stump," and enumerates the 
triumphs, in 1790, of a noted Lancashire pedestrian, whose 
real name was Wild. We read this ballad once, several 
years ago, in a jealously-guarded tome, where the privilege 
of copying was forbidden. In our search for these rhymed 
rarities, we wonder how many roods of song-sheets, pinned 
on walls or tied to railings, at Knot Mill Fair and other 
kindred places, have been patiently conned, until the 
wandering vendors have inquired : — " Any particular 
song, sir ? " " Yes, please ; have you got ' Victorious 
Stump ' ? " " Victorious what ? " A repetition of the 
name producing merely a hopeless shake of the head, it 
was easy to see that the "Merry legs" once so famous 

Deansgafe and its Byways. 139 

were now utterly forgotten. "Who Stump was, or how 
he fared, nobody knew, nobody cared." 

In passing Wood Street (unsavoury now), we need not 
quite ignore the residence of James Ogden, schoolmaster 
and author, nor overlook the printing-office of his son 
William, the political reformer. As we have already 
written of the twain more at length, and from original 
sources, in another work, it will be sufficient to add here, 
that James Ogden contributed freely to Dr Aikin's 
History of Manchester and its surroundings, collecting 
materials for that book resj^ecting several of the manu- 
facturing towns of Lancashire. 

Throughout the present chapter we have made free use 
of bygone advertisements, laying under frequent tribute 
their genuine yet neglected treasures. In justification — 
if such be needed — we may repeat an averment of the 
Rev. George Crabbe, to wit, that while each division of a 
newspaper is a reflex of life, the advertisements are 
" life itself." 



" The older Lancashire ballads have, as a rule, very little of literary 
excellence about them ; nevertheless they are worthy of preservation, and 
sometimes throw a curious light upon the social history of the past. ... In 
this, as in other matters, Lancashire is chiefly noticeable for what has been 
done within the present century. Beyond it she does not possess many lyrics 
of much note or beauty." 

" Folk Song," by W. E. A. Axon. 

T T will be patent to our readers that, in closing the last 
-*- chapter, we "played a lament" for two stray ballads 
wellnigh as plaintively as Patrick lamented for his poor 
dog Tray. As no person can announce his wants in 
a popular newspaper without being heard, few will be 
surprised to find that one of the missing melodies has 
already, Micawber-like, "turned up." So our flag of 
distress is now half furled. This simple incident may 
serve to point a moral to the vainglorious, as thus : — If 
we assume airs of superiority, thus declaring our successful 
rivalry, the world will use all its arts to lower our inflated 
standard ; yet the moment Fate lays us in the dust (as Fate 
sometimes will), and we call for help, as the waggoner 
called to Hercules, that same world will stoop to raise and 
befriend us. In truth, the world is often more generous 
than just ; perhaps it feels its own goodness in acts of 
public benevolence. This may be one reason why charity 

Piccadilly Revisited. 141 

is extolled above all other virtues. To our thinking, 
justice is the nobler attribute; and we would say to our 
sons (if we had them), Be just, both to yourselves and to 
others. This day let each man adopt the golden rule, the 
eleventh commandment, and to-morrow he shall hail the 

Without waiting for the advent of that desirable era, 
we will now revisit Piccadilly, after an absence of several 
years' duration. Glancing at Chatham Street, allow us to 
refer to the grand circus it once contained. As a tangible 
proof of its existence we may present the contents of a 
handbill issued from that establishment when in its hey- 
day: — "At the Circus, November 2nd, 1796. A foot race 
by Mr Wild (Stump) and another noted runner for ten 
guineas, twelve times round, making eight hundred yards. 
Stump is the same who ran on Kersal Moor." To this 
old circus bill the long-sought ballad will lend a new 
charm : — 

(Copied, by permission, from the Greaves Collection. ) 

" You sportsmen all in England fair. 

Come listen awhile to me ; 
A song I am just going to sing. 

Of Stump of high degree : 
For he most footmen will subdue, 
And to his countrymen stand true. 

" It was in April, the fifteenth day. 

To Kersal Moor Stump came ; 
Saying, here comes Trovetor, that noble horse, 

That long has been in fame : 
I mean these footmen to subdue, 
And to my countrymen stand true. 

142 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" It was on Monday, mark the day, 
These heroes came to start ; 
That noble Chapman against Stump, 

But Stump did play his part. 
And noble Chapman did subdue, 
And to his countrymen stood true. 

" They took the gallant Stump to bed 
When Chapman he had beat ; 
For in two hours' time, he had 

To run another heat : 
He was not fit, I must speak true, 
But to his countrymen stood true. 

" The second heat the men did start, 

As I must teU you plain ; 
But Seddon seven yards got the start, 

And soon fourteen did gain ; 
But Stump o'ertook him at Yarn Croft Broo, 
And likewise Seddon did subdue. 

" Then side by side these footmen went, 
Which made them shout amain ; 
Saying, Bonny Stump wiU now be beat 

O how they were mista'en ! 
But Stump he was both loyal and true, 
First up to th' chair this hero flew. 

" Some people said it was not fair. 
And I will say the same, 
To run twice in so short a space ; 

Stump was himself to blame. 
Huzza ! for Stump is loyal and true. 
And made these Swinton gamesters rue. 

" To Epsom, in Surrey, bold Stump went, 

To run against one Pye, 
The noted footman of that part ; 

They thought that he could fly : 
But Stump this Pye-man did subdue. 
And to his countrymen stood true. 

Piccadilly Revisited. 143 

" Likewise to Gisburn once he went, 

A sheep-catcher to run ; 
But of that Yorkshire footman then 

He nothing made but fun ; 
For valiant Stump, thinking no harm, 
Put on his clothes to keep him warm. 

" So now to conclude, and make an end ; 
For Stump we'll loud huzza ! 
Victorious he has always proved, 

And always bore the sway ; 
His honour let it always ring : 
God bless bold Stump and George our King ! " 

In May 1840 (half a century beyond the date appended 
to the above ballad), a Manchester newspaper contained 
the following obituary notice: — "Death of a Veteran 
Pedestrian. — Died, on the loth inst., near Rochdale, at 
the advanced age of eighty years, the celebrated Lanca- 
shire runner. Stump." This statement proving to be 
premature, John Wild was not long in assuring the world 
that there was " life in the old dog yet," although he was 
unable to run so fast or so far as formerly. At what 
date his decease actually occurred, where he was buried, 
or the character of the inscription chiseled on his grave- 
stone, we are not in a position to record. 

Since writing the foregone remarks, an intelligent cor- 
respondent has increased our store of information with a 
few personal recollections. "Wild" he states, "was a 
native of Milnrow, in which village there is on a public- 
house sign a painting of ' Stump and Pie Lad.' Wild was 
one of those men who are stronger in the legs than in the 
headj for whilst he won large sums for those who laid 
wagers on his racing powers, he entirely neglected him- 

144 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

self. I well remember his tall, gaunt, aged form walking 
in short quick steps about the village of Hollingworth, 
where my father was master of the Endowed School. 
Had his 'backers,' in his last days, remembered the almost 
forgotten Stump, it would have been more to their credit." 
From another correspondent we learn that John Wild 
breathed his last at the residence of his daughter Sarah 
at Laneside, near Milnrow. 

In our premier chapter on Piccadilly allusion was made 
to a curious library that won our attention while passing 
its portal. It has since been removed by its owner to 
another quarter of the city. This is one of the most 
unique of private libraries — a miscellaneous and extensive 
collection of anything scarce or peculiar, especially in 
local literature ; and with no lack of the ample ivory 
margins which Coleridge loved to fill, and which bibli- 
ophilists in general know how to appreciate. When we 
watch the career of any quiet, persevering bookworm, who 
dedicates his time and fortune, be they little or much, to 
the rescue and preservation of neglected treasures — when 
we trace such a career to its close, and perceive that, 
usually, at the decease of the worthy collector, his 
accumulations are re-scattered to the winds, is it not pain- 
fully evident that the lettered child, though up-grown and 
mentally endowed, has merely been playing at baby- 
house .' Much better to keep in view the example of 
Chetham, or Ashmole, or Bodley, and in this way transmit 
his name to future generations of silent readers, fruitful 
thinkers, than leave the pious labours of his life to be 
undone by an auctioneer. Rumour has whispered, in her 
fitful and dubious manner, that some such favourable 

Piccadilly Revisited. 145 

destiny awaits the library near Piccadilly; but as Rumour 
is proverbially gifted with a hundred tongues, each one a 
fabulist, it were unsafe to confide in her report. An 
article, written by the now venerable owner of this library, 
and published in the pages of Blackwood's Magazine half 
a century ago, proves how well he can appreciate his 
literary stores, while holding fit communion with the 
ment^ heroes who surround him. The article in ques- 
tion — "On the Chetham Library" — is, with the author's 
permission, inserted entire in our Appendix. 

The readers of the aforesaid article will not be sur- 
prised to learn that its author has found a niche in the 
pages of "Men of the Time." As the brief biographies 
there inserted are usually submitted to the persons 
immediately concerned, we may safely assume their cor- 

"Crossley, James, F.S.A., son of a merchant at Halifax, 
Yorkshire, born in 1800, was educated for the law, and 
practised as a solicitor at Manchester till i860, when he 
retired from the profession. He was a frequent con- 
tributor to the earlier volumes of Blackwood's Magazine, 
one of the writers in the first Retrospective Review, and 
occasionally assisted J. G. Lockhart in biographical articles 
in the Quarterly Review. The peculiar department to 
which he has devoted himself is criticism and antiquarian 
and literary research. Mr Crossley has been a member 
of the Philobiblon Society since its commencement. He 
was appointed president of the Chetham Society in 1848, 
which office he still holds ; and he is also president of the 
more recently formed Spenser Society. He is the editor 

of ' Pott's Discovery of Witches,' ' The Diary and Cor- 


146 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

respondence of Dr John Worthington,' two volumes, and 
'Heywood's Observations in Verse/ in the Chetham 
series. His assistance will be found to be acknowledged 
in very many of the works of literary research which 
have appeared during the last forty years. He is well 
known as an ardent book-collector, and has accumu- 
lated a curious and extensive library. His present resi- 
dence is Cavendish Place, Manchester." 

Certain characteristics lying upon the surface of our 
present street may be briefly chronicled. " Piccadilly 
flags," broad and commanding, are locally proverbial. 
Here, owing to the extended area, the immured citizen 
may hail his freshest breeze or his brightest sunbeam, 
or take his longest gaze at the mysterious comet, when 
that "stranger of heaven" is careering aloft, with the 
beautiful evening star glittering through its far-spreading 
tail. We are told that trees refuse to flourish, flowers to 
expand their petals, hereabouts. If this be true, what 
shall be said of Angel Meadow and similar verdant 
retreats ? It was in this convenient area that our home 
defenders frequently chose to parade; and the curious 
in military manoeuvres — in martial exercises — ^took an 
interest in watching those volunteers present their arms 
to their officers, whilst presenting their attractive uniforms 
to admiring sweethearts. The interest was of a sadder 
kind when, a comrade having grounded his arms in death, 
the survivors mustered here, with sable ensigns, to honour 
him with a soldier!s funeral, and awaken the gazer's sym- 
pathy with the dreary music of the "Dead March in 
Saul." More than once our political candidates have 
selected this scene, at the close of the poll, to express 

Piccadilly Revisited. 147 

their gratitude for parliamentary honours conferred or 
for minority votes recorded in vain. One evening, we 
remember, was especially exciting. Three parties were 
haranguing at the same moment — one at the western 
end upon a balcony ; another at a window at the nor- 
thern side; the third group being located upon and 
around the pedestal of a central monument. We sighed 
for the ability to divide ourselves into the requisite trio> 
so that we might listen to them all fully and fairly. This 
being an impossible feat, we proceeded to hear them par- 
tially and consecutively, yielding the natural preference 
to the member whose success had been the most striking. 
It is not given to every winner to look victorious. But 
this gentleman, rosy, substantial, and joyous in every 
feature, was triumph personified. His observations were 
few and telling. " He came, saw, and overcame," formed 
the gist of his speech. A veritable Caesar I After prais- 
ing our independence and determination, he assured us 
that his victory was equally our own : so we went on our 
way rejoicing. Crossing the street, we next joined the 
crowd surrounding two candidates— a winner and a loser. 
Throughout the canvass they had declared their intention 
of being partners for life ; but at the poll the voters had 
cruelly forbidden the banns. During our stay the winner 
was addressing the citizens, the difficulties of his task being 
apparent. Each word of congratulation spoken for himself 
required two of condolence for the less fortunate friend at 
his side. Orestes, having lost his Pylades, refused to be 
wholly comforted. As we turned from the novel and per- 
plexing scene, we caught ourselves humming the sugges- 

[48 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

tive fanciful ditty, "Said a smile to a tear." Arriving 
at length at the monument, or final rostrum, we were at 
the foot of the election poll,— the sober, subdued aspect 
of affairs contrasting strangely with the balcony scene, 
where all seemed couleur de rose. The audience, being 
smaller, was here more select and orderly; the cheers, 
though feebler, were more discriminating. In short, the 
assembly was full of the wisdom which recent adversity 
is known to bestow. When the candidate rose to thank 
us— to thank us for nothing — he smiled benignantly, while 
asserting that in all contests of this nature there must of 
necessity be losers — a fact we already felt as a truism. 
He had calmly prepared himself for defeat, being shrewder 
in this respect than the Great Napoleon, who thought only 
of conquest ; and he believed, with Jacob Faithful, that 
another opportunity would bring better fortune. His 
friends had merely to bide their turn, taking heart from 
a homely proverb — "The third time will pay for all." 
Personally the apparent loss was a real gain. He could 
now enjoy the comforts of home, the profits of business, 
instead of sacrificing both to parliamentary duties. Other 
consolatory phrases following in well-timed succession, the 
listening losers began to experience "the joy of sorrow," 
and to think that, after all, they had not so much the 
worst of the bargain. With the hush of the hopeful 
speaker's voice our parting glance was taken, and we 
felt duly grateful for a useful lesson of life ; nor have we 
since forgotten the interesting Shakespearian tableau — ■ 
" Patience on a monument smiling at Grief." Possibly 
our interest in the monumental scene was enhanced by 

Piccadilly Revisited. 149 

a remembrance of the time when the working-men's can- 
didate and his auditor were both young, and little antici- 
pating this contest for parliamentary honours, nor fore- 
seeing the high civic dignities which have since been 
conferred upon him by his fellow-citizens. 



" To arrive, untutored and unaided, at that purity of style, that truth to 
nature, that display of lively and harmless humour, which abound in his 
pictures, was a great deal ; but it was greater to satisfy his own rigorous self- 
criticism,- and to die with the consciousness of having secured to himself a 

memory of enduring fame." 

George Condy. 

WHO could pass the end of Gore Street, Piccadilly, 
without casting a wistful glance at the house 
where Henry Liverseege lived during his later years, 
and ultimately died,* leaving his latest creation, " Falstaff 
and Bardolph," unfinished upon the easel.? Not we, by 
our troth! At the sale of the late John Clowes Grundy's 
art collection, this last work of Liverseege was knocked 
down at forty-six pounds four shillings. When we see 
a favourite picture thus brought to new life by the ring 
of the auctioneer's hammer, and remember that the gifted 
producer has long ago passed from amongst us, we are 
forcibly impressed by a thought which has impressed men 
before to-day — that the painter is even less of a reality 
than the shadows emanating from his pencil. 

* To render this fact clear, we append a verbatim copy of his burial record, 
as preserved in the register at St Luke's : — " Henry Liverseege, single man ; 
abode. Gore Street, Piccadilly; buried, igth January 1832 ; age, 29 years." 

Gore Street — Henry Liverseege, 151 

It will be fresh in the remembrance of many of our 
readers, that, ten years ago, attention was called by a cor- 
respondent in the columns of the Manchester Guardian to 
the neglected, precarious state of the young painter's grave. 
With a hearty, commendable esprit-de-corps, immediate 
action was taken in the matter by the chief editor of the 
journal named, who summoned a few kindred spirits, and 
the requisite funds were subscribed towards a suitable 
memorial tablet, since executed by Mr Marshall Wood. 
The original letter is here revived, together with the 
editorial reply. 

" The Grave of Liverseege the Painter. 

" To the Editor : — Sir, — To-day, being at leisure, I have 
been watching the demolition of St Luke's Church, Chorlton-upon- 
Medlock, and saw workmen sorting the fallen debris upon the 
grave of poor Liverseege, who was buried close to the wall of the 
church. It is needless, sir, to speak of the merits of Liverseege ; 
his name and works are public property. As, on my return home, 
I passed the monuments in front of the Infirmary, I felt that, 
when we talk of ' the fortune of war,' we may likewise talk of the 
fortune of peace. The social enigma which perpetuates one son of 
genius in bronze or in marble, while it leaves another to be degraded 
in an obscure grave, is more difficult of solution than all the riddles 
of my Lord Dundreary. However, sir, knowing the value of your 
space, I wUl briefly repeat that the resting-place of Henry Liverseege 
requires immediate attention, or all trace of it may soon be lost." 

The urgency of the case being acknowledged, the follow- 
ing notice appeared in the newspaper within a few days : — 

"The Grave of Liverseege. — Our attention having been 
called to the grave of Henry Liverseege by our correspondent, we made 
some inquiries on the subject yesterday. St Luke's Church, Bedford 
Street, of which the Rev. W. A. Darby is rector, is about to be rebuilt. 
The old church, which was of brick, is being pulled down, and the 

152 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

necessary consequence is that some of the debris falls upon the stones 
in the adjoining graveyard. The stone over the unfortunate artist's 
remains is close to the side of the church, and a portion of the spout 
which drained the roof passes through it. The inscription is mainly 
to the memory of a family named Mitchell, the name of Liverseege 
being the last upon the stone. Although some rubbish may have 
rested upon this, as well as other gravestones, the greatest care is 
being taken to preserve them from injury. It is intended to take 
up the stones — probably the wiser course for their preservation — 
during the rebuilding — to lower the surface of the ground slightly, 
and to replace the stones. We cannot, however, think it creditable 
to Manchester that the last resting-place of one of whom an eminent 
critic has said that, had he lived, he might have been an EngUsh 
Wilkie, should remain unhonoured and almost unknown. Doubtless, 
many visitors to the Art Treasures Exhibition remember Liverseege's 
picture of a political cobbler poring over Cobbett's Register. The 
man who painted that, and who spent his brief life of twenty-nine 
years in this city, deserves some record at our hands. At least an 
upright stone should mark his grave, and a tablet in the church, when 
it is rebuilt, should perpetuate his artistic merit. The editor of the 
Guardian will be glad to receive the names of any gentlemen who 
approve of this suggestion." 

After the lapse of thirty years of silent neglect, it is 
gratifying to the worshipper or occasional loiterer in the 
chaste new church dedicated to St Luke, Chorlton-upon- 
Medlock, to rest his eyes on the medallion portrait of 
Liverseege, and, comparing the present with the past, read 
the appropriate inscription beneath : — 

" Henry Liverseege, painter, born at Man- 
chester, September 4, 1803, where he died, 
January 13, 1832, is buried in this church. 
He cultivated his innate love of painting in 
defiance of adverse circumstances and a 
weakly frame. Life was to him a school of 
earnest study of his art in the subjects of 
romance and humour, to which his genius 


Gore Street — Henry Liverseege. 153 

inclined. Death overtook him as he passed 
from scholar into master. Some of his towns- 
men, who, in the pictures he has left, recognise 
his genius, and lament the death that left such 
promise unfulfilled, have raised this stone to his 
memory. June 1865." 

Still the tablet in question, being formed of light 
material, and placed against a light wall, seems to ask for 
a dark relieving border to give it full effect. It represents 
the Muse of Painting mourning the loss of her son, and 
laying a wreath upon his tomb. 

The grave of Liverseege, originally in the yard, was 
enclosed, with several others, by the new church (of larger 
dimensions than the old), and is now beneath the Rector's 
pew ; where many a furtive glance is still cast by Henry's 
admiring and aspiring brethren of the easel, thus forming 
an instinctive guardianship. 

It is known that Liverseege, at the outset of his brief 
career, painted at least two inn-signs, the Ostrich, displayed 
near New Islington, and a fierce, swarthy, richly-coloured, 
half-length figure, named the Saracen's Head, — long an 
object of interest to the wayfarer on Rochdale Road. The 
builder of the inn, desirous of an attractive sign for his new 
house, gave the commission to his young friend Liverseege, 
who more than satisfied the expectations formed. After 
some years of outdoor service, the Saracen's Head was 
taken in to- preserve it from the corroding effects of the 
weather, and was then hung as a treasure in the landlord's 
private room, — precisely as the Royal Oak, painted by 
David Cox, is preserved at Bettws. Manchester possessed 
another superior inn-sign — the Haunch of Venison, Dale 

154 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Street — from the easel of Paul Wilkinson, a wayward 
genius, not exactly of the Liverseege order, but rather a 
diamond in the rough, who never submitted to the 
lapidary's refining art. 

The persevering industry of Liverseege, which was 
remarkable, will be best revealed by a contemplation of 
his numerous works — numerous when his youth and 
delicate health are considered, and of rare excellence 
withal. Of course these cannot be consulted by our 
readers in the original paintings, rich and varied in colour, 
but there is an excellent substitute in the folio volume of 
engravings pubhshed in London by Hodgson, Boys, & 
Graves, and in Manchester by Grundy & Goadsby. As 
this volume appeared within three years of the painter's 
decease, the owners of his pictures at that date would be, 
in the majority of instances, the early admirers and 
encouragers of his genius. We have pleasure^ in repro- 
ducing their names. 

List of Engravings from the Works of 
Henry Liverseege. 

Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture. 

The Weekly Register John Bentley, Esq. 

The Inquiry Benjamin Hick, Esq. 

Captain Macheath ... ... Benjamin Hick, Esq. 

The Gravediggers Joseph Marsland, Esq. 

Agnes A. G. Vickers, Esq. 

Hamlet and Ghost John S. Heron, Esq. 

Black Dwarf Benjamin Hick, Esq. 

Touch of the Spasms John S. Heron, Esq. 

Friar Tuck John S.. Heron, Esq. 

The Recruit Lawrence Fort, Esq. 

Gore Street — Henry Liverseege. 


Name of Subject. 
Little Red Riding-Hood 
Good Resolution 

The Visionary 

Sir Piercie Shafton . . . 
The Grandfather 

The Betrothed 

Othello and Desdemona 
Falstaff and Bardolph 
Popping the Question . . . 
Lucy Ashton 
Parental Affection 

The Orphan 

The Falconer 

Friar Tuck Asleep 
Don Quixote in his Study 
The Cavalier 
Edie Ochiltree 
The Benediction 

My Lady's Page 

Christopher Sly and \ 

THE Hostess f 

Touchstone and Audrey 
Meg Merrilees and| 

Hazlewood ) 

HUDIBRAS and RaLPHO . . . 

Ann Page 

The Ghost Story 

Portrait of Liverseege 
Liverseege's Chair 

Proprietor of Picture. 
G. Gilbertson, Esq. 
Joseph Marsland, Esq. 
Joseph Marsland, Esq. 
Duke of Devonshire. 
Thomas Ollivant, Esq. 
Benjamin Dobson, Esq. 
Joseph Marsland, Esq. 
George Talbot Knowles, Esq. 
Charles Meigh, Esq. 
Bolton Institution. 
Benjamin Hick, Esq. 
John Bentley, Esq. 
Joseph Marsland, Esq. 
Benjamin Godfrey Windus, Esq. 
C. K. Mainwaring, Esq. 
John Greaves, Esq. 
J. M. Ince, Esq, 
Joseph Marsland, Esq. 
M. P. Calvert, Esq. 

William Wells, Esq. 

Joseph Marsland, Esq. 

George Peel, Esq. 

Henry Brooke, Esq. 
George Stephens, Esq. 
Robert Vernon, Esq. 
Thomas Agnew, Esq. 
Benjamin Godfrey Windus, Esq. 

Even this lengthy list does not embrace all his pro- 
ductions. At the Exhibition of the works of local artists 
at Peel Park, in 1857, we had the pleasure of viewing many 
of Liverseege's paintings. The titles of some of these, not 
included in the above list, may be transcribed from the 

156 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture. 
The Baron's Dwarf ( Vide " Lay| ^ Whitehead, Esq. 

of the Last Minstrel") ) 

Dead Game C. Bradbury, Esq. 

* * * C. Bradbury, Esq. 

" All — all, save one — and she bends by his side. 
Whose arms were first to clasp her with a love 
Fond as a bridegroom's for his blushing bride. 
Strong as a parent's heait alone may prove ! 
And she is there beside him, like a dove, 
'Tending his drooping form with pitying care ; 
And oft her tearful eyes she lifts above, 
And offers to her God a quiet prayer. 
With looks like angel's — mild and beautifully fair." 

C. Swain's " Beauties of the Mind." 

Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture. 

A Study OF A Boy J. Bostock, Esq. 

Portrait OF Mrs Calvert ... M. P. Calvert, Esq. 

The Bird-Trap* J. C. Grundy, Esq. 

Captain Dalgetty ( Vide " Legend ] ^ ^ ^ ^ 

of Montrose") } J. R. Taylor, Esq. 

Storm Scene from " The Antiquary " A. Hall, Esq. 
Effie Deans ( Vide " Heart of Mid- ) ^ „ „ 
Lothian") I J. R. Taylor, Esq. 

HaLBERT GLENDINNING(F/^^"The ) T T) rr. -n- 

Abbot") } J. R. Taylor, Esq. 

Original Sketch J. Marsland, Esq. 

A Sketch John Barratt, Esq. 

During the Exhibition of 1 861, in the same building at 
Lark Hill, we noticed three additional productions, thus 
catalogued : — 

A charming little picture, rarely mentioned. 

Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. 157 

Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture. 

" Scene from Kenilworth :'"» 

Amy Robsart assaulted by Lam- > ... J. Marsland, Esq. 

bourne and Staples ) 

Evening Devotion (a sepia "\ 

drawing, with the artist's v ... J. Satterfield, Esq. 

autograph) j 

Portrait of Liverseege (chalk ") ^ ^.^ _, 

1 . 1. u T. ji \ r •••J- Heugh, Esq. 

sketch, by Bradley) J •' ' ^ 

Several others are mentioned by Mr Tom Taylor and 
Mr George Richardson (a pupil of Liverseege's), one being 
" Adam Woodcock," purchased by the Earl of Wilton ; 
another, " A Robber on the Look-out." Of " Little Red 
Riding-Hood " we have received a later and further 
account. In the folio volume the print is dedicated to 
Mr Gilbertson, the possessor of the original picture. Mr 
George Gilbertson, late of Stocks Street, Cheetham, an 
early admirer of Liverseege, bought this painting from the 
artist ; and it remained a favourite ornament of the ovirner's 
dwelling until his demise, about ten years ago, when his 
effects, inclusive of the picture, were distributed by auction. 
Mr James Shaw, in his visits to Mr Gilbertson in the 
capacity of family physician, saw the painting in ques- 
tion so frequently that he recollects every feature; more 
especially the centre attraction, where the damsel, fascin- 
ated by the "soft sawder " of Master Wolf, is unconsciously 
and unceasingly dropping from her pinafore the wild 
flowers she never stoops to recover. As a matter of course, 
the reader will be familiar with this incident. We all 
know the story of Little Red Riding-Hood, having learned 
it from the loving lips of mother in the nursery. All, did 
we write .■• Yes, all save the poor little Bohemians, who. 

158 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

lacking both nurse and nursery, have no such pure remem- 
berings. But those waifs and strays of (or rather from) 
society must not lure us away — far away — from the 
winsome favourite, Red Riding-Hood, as pictured by 
Henry Liverseege. 

Once upon a time (before the formation of dates or 
numerals, and ere the restrictions of Fact were allowed to 
fetter the wild movements of Fancy), a pretty little 
country girl lived — as country girls usually do live — in a 
village. Her mother, we are assured, loved her much ; 
whilst her grandmother's affection was so abounding, that 
she bestowed upon her darling a rose-coloured hood, and 
the pet became known, within a circle of many green 
miles, by the designation she still retains — to the annihi- 
lation of the formal names conferred at the baptismal font. 
The tiny maiden, dutiful as pretty, went forth one sunny 
day, at her mother's request, and in the hue of the Lan- 
castrian rose, with some cakes and butter for grandame, 
who was ailing, and who dwelt alone on the skirt of an 
adjoining forest, the porch of her straw-roofed cottage 
being encircled with flowers. While crossing the wood, 
our heroine encountered a wolf, — a savage of taste, as the 
sequel proved, — for upon seeing how sweet and tender she 
was, he yearned to devour her ; but hearing woodcutters 
at work, he postponed his meal to a more convenient hour 
for dining. The wolf then entered freely into conversation 
with the child, and, judging by the reporter's verbatim 
notes, the brute was of the Talleyrand breed , using language 
for the purpose of concealing, not revealing, his sinister 
intentions. It is almost needless to write that the guileless 
girl failed to hold her own against the wiles of her astute 

Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. 159 

companion — Seeming, as usual, proving more than a 
match for the True. The issue was a double sacrifice, — 
another Massacre of the Innocents ; but as we possess no 
talent for tragedy, the great sensation scene will not be 
enacted before the curtain. Better to cover the gore with 
forest leaves, as Redbreast covered the babies, and hasten 
to the retribution. Wolf being despatched on the scene of 
his enormities by the avenging hand of Red Riding-Hood's 
father, a ban was forthwith laid iipon the treacherous race 
by the Court of Fairies in full council assembled. The 
wolfish tongue, condemned to wordless silence, is never to 
betray more; nor will one of the species be permitted to 
prowl again, in his natural garb, upon English soil. This 
latter proviso, as all readers can verify, has been carried 
out to the letter, — ^the only wolves to be found in Albion at 
the present date being those disguised in sheep's clothing. 

Surely there is a spark of true Promethean fire in the 
undying nursery charmers, — the pictured legends that are 
lisped in babyhood and venerated in age. 

The fate of Liverseege bore some resemblance to the 
fate of Tasso. The messenger who brought the intelli- 
gence to the Latin poet that the laurel crown had been 
decreed to him, found him dying. Liverseege saw in pro- 
spective the laurel which he could not live to wear. The 
elder genius had won his unworn crown ; the younger was 
still striving, and winning his meed. So when we mark 
the wreath upon Henry's tablet, we feel constrained to 
acknowledge the peculiar fitness of the symbol. 

Appreciative Mancestrians find unfailing interest in the 
manifold illustrations of humour and romance emanating 
from the pencil of their "English Wilkie." In him, a 

i6o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

merry heart, a soaring mind, were chained unfairly to the 
earth by circumstances beyond his control ; and if, like 
Francis Quarles, we were selecting emblems for special 
application, the emblem for Liverseege might be a skylark 
with a wounded wing. 

Perhaps we cannot better part from Henry Liverseege 
than in the tributary lines of his gifted townswoman, the 
late Maria Jane Jewsbury : — 


" Death, grim Death, when shall we see 
This broad earth no more thy city 1 

Grave, deep Grave, when shall it be 
Thou wilt close thy lips in pity 1 

When shall Love's subduing prayer, 

When shall Genius, yet more rare, 

Mind and Worth, in blended beauty, 

Woo ye from your cold stern duty ? 

\When shall Sweetness win back one ? 
Never, never ! — he is gone ! 

' i^•'r*•■■/,c5?V?^ 

• Yet, swift hunter, couldst not give 

Summons ere the hart was stricken \ 
Grave, that on Death's prey dost live, 

Could thy hungry silence quicken 
Into no foreboding knell 
Ere the unconscious victim fell ? 
Could ye not give leave to plight 
Farewell, ere his day grew night ? 
Might not Sorrow's need have one .'' 
Ye were ruthless ! — he is gone ! 

" Yesterday, scarce yesterday, 

Bright dreams through his brain were flowing, 
And his hand, with cunning play, 

To the world those dreams was showing. 

Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. i6i 

Yesterday, and in his eye 
Fame had writ her prophecy ; 
Sealed it on his flexile lips. 
Now in dark and mute eclipse. 
Could not Genius save her son ? 

Wherefore question ? — he is gone ! 

" Speak not of his fragile form, 
And his often painful pillow ; 
What may longer bide the storm 
, Than the dehcate drooping willow ? 
( He was loved, and Love can do 
1 Feats physicians never knew, 
T WiSi^its^undlessness of^re^^ 
\ M ighty h o pe, and fervent prayer._ 

Hush, oh hush ! — Love's power is none — 
It is weeping ! — he is gone ! 

" Dust to dust, now dust to dust, 
And we leave his dwelling lowly ; 
Not another sigh we must, 

If it be not meek and holy. 
Whose the arm that smote him down ? 
Whose the hand took off his crown ? 
God alone, omnipotent, 
f; CaUing back what He had lent. 
\:Come then, friends, and be each one 
Better Christian now he's gone." 

Thus far concerning Henry Liverseege, the master-spirit 
of our artistic circle. Were these Memorials not already 
crowded with select illustrations, presenting scenes of in- 
terest or relics of antiquity, we might add to this chapter 
an outline map of Manchester and its environs, just to 
indicate the various churchyards and cemeteries where 
he and other local painters are resting from their easels. 
Our motive therein would be to guide the citizen or 

casual stranger to those consecrated spots by the most 


1 62 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

direct routes, so that even the mercantile minds, who rate 
their time at so much current coin of the realm, might pay 
an occasional visit without finding a serious deficit in their 
cash accounts. The connoisseur, on returning to his gallery, 
would feel his interest in a favourite picture enhanced by 
knowing where the skilful hand that wrought it lies — for- 
getful of its cunning. 



" The Pen and the Press, blessed alliance ! combined 
To soften the heart and enlighten the mind ; 
For that to the treasures of knowledge gave Birth, 
And this sent them forth to the ends of the earth. 
Their battles for truth were triumphant indeed. 
And the rod of the tyrant was snapped like a reed. 
They were made to exalt us, to teach us, to bless — 
Those invincible brothers, the Pen and the Press." 

J. C. Prince. 

AS already shown, the thoroughfare now under treatment 
•^*- is sufficiently time-worn. Long an object of interest, 
historically and commercially, Deansgate has latterly become 
entitled to our sympathy. Placed on the rack of modern 
improvements, its venerable frame has been stretched and 
tortured until barely recognisable; and it now seems fitting 
that some kindly hand should analyse and dissect its dis- 
located remains before they disappear from our view. Dis- 
pensing with hyperbole, which is holiday-speech, we merely, 
in work-a-day words, intend to examine the fallen debris 
before it is carted away, scrutinise the hoary foundations 
as we find them ruthlessly laid bare, and summon to their 
accustomed haunts a few of the choice spirits who once 
abode within the fated walls. In comparison with the anti- 
quated scene, the characters now introduced are modern, 

164 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

being wielders of the feathered quill rather than of the 
feathered arrow, and more familiar with the harmless 
thunders of the printing-machine than with the far-distant 
" artillery " of the Grelles or Greslets, or De la Warres 
or Wests. 

In a shop situated between the Star Inn and the Three 
Arrows resided Mr Joseph Aston, a notable penman and 
pressman of the last generation. The earliest glimpse we 
obtain of Mr Aston's family is from Mrs Raffald's primi- 
tive Manchester Directory, just one hundred years old — 
a unique and tiny tome, that can be seen on sufferance 
only. That early notice informs us that William Aston 
(father of our journalist), gunsmith, dwelt at the bottom of 
Deansgate. In 181 1 the address is changed to 53 King 
Street, where "William Aston and Son " appear as gun and 
pistol makers. Here Mr Aston, senior, died on the 8th of 
October 1826, in his ninety-second year; and here, also, 
his wife preceded him to the grave in 1808, at the age 
of seventy-four. 

Since the foregoing was written, we have met with a 
business advertisement of an earlier date — August 1770 — 
possessing some interest : — " This is to inform the public 
that William Aston, gunmaker (from Birmingham), hath 
now opened a shop in Deansgate, Manchester, where he 
makes and sells all sorts of guns and pistols, mounted 
either in silver, steel, or brass, or a remarkably fine pinch- 
beck, in the best manner ; where all gentlemen, sportsmen, 
tradesmen, and others, who please to favour him with their 
commands, may depend on being served on the lowest 

Retracing our steps to October 1790, we meet with a 

Literary Deansgate. 165 

record of Mr Joseph Aston's marriage to Miss Elizabeth 
Preston, " both of this town." Three years later began a 
series of friendly communications with James Montgomery, 
the Sheffield poet — a correspondence extending over 
thirty-four years. In July 1794, on commencing the Iris, 
Montgomery (it is the privilege of established favourites, 
when respect has ripened into affection, to lose the formal 
prefix of Mr) thus addressed Mr Aston :— " The principal 
object of this letter is to request the favour of your corre- 
spondence in any character you please to assume. The 
elegant productions of your liberal and enlightened pen 
often graced the last page of the Register" The Register 
was a newspaper previously published in Sheffield, and 
from its ruins sprang the Iris. Montgomery frequently 
submitted his manuscripts to Mr Aston for his critical 
opinion, receiving a useful suggestion or a likely topic in 
return. These literary correspondents first met at Buxton, 
in 1797, and spent a day or two together at Castleton. On 
several subsequent occasions they exchanged brief visits at 
Manchester and at Sheffield. At one of these meetings Mr 
Aston introduced Mr Harrison Ainsworth to Montgomery. 
Politically Mr Aston pursued an independent course. 
A reformer in his youth, when Liberal opinions were dan- 
gerous to the holder, he contributed to the Manchester 
Herald, printed in the Market Place, by Messrs Falkner 
and Birch, until the office of that paper was violently 
attacked by a mob, and all the types thrown into " pye," 
to the tune of Church and King. Composing sticks were 
then and there broken, to the detriment of all composure. 
Cases suddenly lost their contents — pica, large and small ; 
primer, short and tall ; brevier and nonpareil, all left to the 

1 66 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

mercy of each minion of the multitude ; English, though 
appertaining to their own country, was treated with as 
little ceremony as the Galilean bourgeois ; while the dia- 
mond was distributed as recklessly as if it were merely 
paste, and the pearl was cast forth literally unto swine. 
This political riot occurred in the year of grace 1793. In 
his more mature years Mr Aston wrote in a Conservative 
spirit. Liberty is the dream of our youth, which age too 
seldom realises. His poetical fancy found more enduring 
charms in the primitive customs and sylvan beauty of old 
England than in the changing unrest of these modern 
days. The feeling of veneration implanted in the poet's 
breast makes him cling to the past, even in decay — he is 
the ivy of animated nature. 

In 1803 Mr Aston entered into the stationery business, 
and Montgomery recommended to him Messrs Long- 
mans, as wholesale booksellers, adding some interesting 
particulars : — " Towards me and my little volume — [the 
" Wanderer of Switzerland "] — they have acted with great 
spirit and liberality ; they are printing an edition of one 
thousand copies, to sell at five shillings each, at their own 
expense and hazard ; and I am to have half of the profits, 
still retaining the copyright." In continuation he re- 
marks : — " Mr [afterwards Dr] Adam Clarke called on me. 
I was delighted with him in private, and astonished at 
him in public when I heard him preach. He spoke most 
favourably of you, and desired his kindest remembrance." 
Adam Clarke was at that time stationed in Manchester as 
a Methodist preacher, where he is said to have taken a 
leading part in the formation of a philological society, of 
which Mr Aston became a member. 

Literary Deansgate, 167 

In the same year (1803) Montgomery, depressed by 
political troubles in connection with his newspaper, 
further wrote : — " During this dreary interval I had but 
one friend and counsellor at home, Mr Ebenezer Rhodes 
[author of the " Peak Scenery "], and another at Manches- 
ter, Mr Joseph Aston, with whom I frequently corre- 
sponded. To these two I confided my schemes, enter- 
prises, and miscarriages ; and they, so far as they could, 
consoled me with anticipations of a favourable change in 
the taste of the times, or a luckier application of my 

Our intention was to give a complete list of Mr Aston's 
productions ; but, finding his pamphlets and reprints con- 
cerning local history voluminous, we must be content with 
the enumeration of his newspapers, books, and plays. 
Prior to the close of the last century he had written a 
novel in letters, as evidenced by a note of Montgomery's. 
The first work attributed to his press is the "Argus," 
bearing date 1803; but the only "Argus" we can trace 
carries the imprint of R. & W. Dean, published in the 
succeeding year, no author's name being given. In 1804 
he brought out the " Manchester Guide," the precursor of 
a long series of provincial guide-books by other hands. 
This work, rewritten and embellished with views of public 
buildings, afterwards appeared under a new name, " A Pic- 
ture of Manchester." Mr Aston's next undertaking was a 
newspaper, the prospectus of which will show how simple 
and homely were the aspirations of a Manchester editor — 
and a clever one — at the opening of the present century. 
He had not the remotest idea of " laying down the law," 
as now laid down by the "Thunderer" and other living 

1 68 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

magnates of the press. Unfortunately, the tattered 
copy — scarcely a broadside — from which we transcribe 
is bereft of one corner, and the reader's ingenuity will be 
slightly taxed to supply the deficiency caused by wear 
and tear and time : — 

" Prospectus of a new weekly Manchester newspaper. On Tues- 
day, January the ist, iSoj, will be published (price sixpence) a news- 
paper, under the title of the Manchester Mail. The population of Man- 
chester and its neighbourhood has become so great, and its commercial 
consequence risen so high, that it would not be matter for surprise 
if speculations were formed in it every day, not only in its staple 
manufactures, but in other employments and pursuits of active life, 
by those persons who wish to participate in the local prosperity, ' To 
share the triumph, and partake the gale.' Actuated by wishes of 
this nature, the publisher of this advertisement intends to offer to the 
public patronage another newspaper. But in this speculation, to use 
the very appropriate words of a prospectus lately published on a 
similar occasion, ' The proprietor is not in the least actuated by any- 
thing like a spirit of opposition ; disclaiming every idea of attempting 
to depreciate the professional or literary merits of contemporary prints, 
but erects his hopes of success solely on the fair basis of honest com- 
petition.' The editor of the Manchester Mail makes a choice of Tues- 
day for the day of publication, in the hope of making his paper a com- 
mercial advertiser ; because Tuesday is the commercial market-day, 
when the town has a constant influx of respectable visitants, and on 
which so very great a proportion of the business of the district is 

" It has of late years been a rule for the editor of a newspaper to 
publish his political creed with his prospectus : but in times like the 
present, when every British heart is swelling with anxiety for its 
country ; when a generous patriotic pride in national independency, 
and a general abhorrence of usurpation have reconciled every jarring 
opinion j when every man who possesses the faculty of thought is 
exercising it in contemplating the means of averting the boast of the 
common enemy of Britain — of Europe — and of . . . . who has 
proudly threatened to make this country fall prostrate at the feet x>l 
France ; in times like these, when one sentiment appears to pervade 

Literary Deansgate. 169 

all, ... of the Manchester Mail would deem it insulting to the best 
feelings of ... to introduce a political creed into his prospectus. 
It might imply that there are Englishmen divided from the sentiment 
— the amor pairia, which has drawn so many of their gallant country- 
men from their firesides, to form a cordon of defence around that part 
of the community whose age, sex, infirmities, or peculiar occupations 
unfit them for the sacred task of guarding the birthright of Britons, 
and of aiding to perpetuate the chartered blessings which this country, 
notwithstanding all the political shocks it hath experienced, still 
enjoys — blessings which were purchased by the manly fortitude of our 
glorious and venerated ancestors, and cemented to the constitution by 
patriotic blood. But, even in times less propitious to harmony of 
sentiment than the present, the editor of a newspaper ought not to 
assume the situation of a political dictator. In his editorial capacity 
he is the servant of the public. When he industriously collects infor- 
mation, and reports it faithfully, he is in the line of his duty ; but 
when he presumes to obtrude his own political opinions upon the 
world, as if he were infallible, he assumes a consequence to which 
he has no legitimate claim. The political details of an English news- 
paper should be as unlike the slavish pages of a French one as pos- 
sible. They should be like the charges of upright British judges to 
British juries — ^plain constitutional statements of facts, without en- 
deavouring to influence opinions. The Manchester Mail shall be 
conducted in conformity to these ideas. 

" It would be a waste of words to say what miscellaneous matter 
newspapers published in the centre of the most flourishing province 
of the British Empire ought to contain. The editor and publisher of 
the Manchester Mail only promises that in variety of matter, calcu- 
lated to inform or to amuse, he will at the least emulate the best ; 
and, if amusement and information be found in its columns, there 
can be no doubt of its success ; for it will then be the interest of 
advertisers to notice it. To them he particularly offers himself for a 
share of their favours, being fully aware that, however kind his liter- 
ary friends may be in their communications, however industrious he 
may be himself in making selections and obtaining information, or 
however extended the sale of the Manchester Mail may be, to adver- 
tisements only can he look for remuneration. The Mail will be de- 
livered in Manchester every Monday evening, and in the adjacent 
country early on Tuesday morning. Orders for the Mail, advertise- 

1 70 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ments, literary communications, and articles of intelligence, will be 
gratefully received by Joseph Aston, No. 84 Deansgate, Man- 

An incident more remarkable than the birth of the 
Mail occurred here in 1805. During that fortunate year 
no poor-rate was laid in this town — an accidental omission 
which has been amply atoned for since by the laying and 
levying of two rates in a year in lieu of one. 

Writing in 1806, Montgomery alludes to Mr Aston's 
friend Charles Mayne Young, at that date leading 
tragedian at the Theatre in Spring Gardens, and also at 
Liverpool. Rising, but not yet risen into eminence, Mr 
Young was a frequent visitor at the shop of the new 
editor ; and when the actor's wife prematurely died, in the 
summer of the said year, his editorial friend proved his 
sympathy by penning her epitaph, which is still visible on 
her gravestone in Prestwich Churchyard. With a free and 
easy faculty for rhyming, Mr Aston was never chary of 
his poetical tributes, private or public ; and many may be 
called to mind, notably the characteristic description of 
his intimate acquaintance Thomas Barritt, the antiquary. 
It was the opinion of Montgomery that Mr Aston read 
poetry better than he wrote it, being so far different from 
some writers he had known. Nevertheless and notwith- 
standing, Mr Aston succeeded in poetry according to his 
aim — is not that sufficient in all cases } He did not seek 
to be a laureate, but preferred to rhyme in a familiar way, 
so that all who read might understand. Montgomery 
further thought — apart from his Manchester friend — that 
no poet should read aloud his own verses, but leave that 
privilege to his admirers. In prose, as freely as in rhyme, 

Literary Deansgate. 1 7 1 

Joseph Aston was quite at home. Ever ready, versatile, 
industrious with his pen, he was the John Harland of his 
day ; precisely the gentleman for newspaper service and 
for practical literary guidance to his fellow-townsmen. 

The Mail continued to furnish its patient readers with 
the customary tardy intelligence Tuesday after Tuesday, 
until it was run off the road by its established rivals, 
Harrop's Mercury and Wheeler's Chronicle. In no way 
disheartened, Mr Aston removed across the narrow 
thoroughfare of Deansgate to more convenient business 
premises in St Ann Street, and commenced, in September 
1809, the Exchange Herald — the newspaper with which 
his name is most frequently associated. This journal he 
conducted with popularity and success until 1825. As a 
coincidence, it may be remarked that his friend , Montgo- 
mery disposed of the Sheffield Iris in the same year — the 
latter afterwards asserting that he was one of the earliest 
to introduce editorial leaders into a newspaper. 

Three dramatic pieces emanated from Mr Aston's 
pen — " Retributive Justice," a tragedy ; " A Family 
Story," a comedy (1814), written during convalescence, 
and dedicated to his wife, who had watched him through 
a nervous fever ; and " Conscience," founded on one of 
Miss Lee's "Canterbury Tales." This play, the best 
known of the three, was first performed on the loth of 
February 1815. It proved moderately successful, being 
well supported by the stock company of the Theatre 
Royal — which company is worth naming — to wit, Vanden- 
hoff, Cooper, Bass, Browne, Tayleure, and Mrs Ward. 

Mr Aston's theatrical diversions were varied by frequent 
contributions to our local history, including the "Lan- 

172 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

cashire Gazetteer," the " Patriot," and "Metrical Records 
of Manchester," the latter being a humorous reprint, in 
1822, from the poets' corner of the Exchange Herald. 

On the extinction of the Herald, the editor's long con- 
nection with Manchester terminated. Removing to the 
land of Tim Bobbin, he started the Rochdale Recorder ; 
and while conducting that journal he received, in 1827, 
his last letter from Montgomery, Writing a few years 
earlier (18 18), the Sheffield poet congratulated Mr Aston 
on the promotion of his friend, Alaric A. Watts, to the 
editorship of the New Monthly Magazine. The whole of 
the letters dating from Sheffield were returned to the 
writer by Miss Aston shortly after her father's decease, 
and they appear in the " Memoirs of James Montgomery," 
edited by John Holland and James Everett, and pub- 
lished, in 1855-56, by Messrs Longman & Co. To that 
interesting biography our obligations will be manifest, and 
we tender our acknowledgments accordingly. 

Referring to Miss Aston, Montgomery thus wrote in 
1823 : — "I perused your daughter's stanzas, published in 
the New Monthly, with twofold pleasure." 

Wishing to obtain a line or two of information from one 
who had the pleasure of knowing our local editor and his- 
torian in his retirement at Chadderton Hall, near Oldham, 
Mr Owen addressed a few queries to the Rev. Canon 
Raines, and we subjoin a portion of that gentleman's reply : 
— "Milnrow Vicarage, Rochdale, December 2d [1872]. 
Dear Sir, — I knew Mr Aston very well, and always found 
him genial and intelligent. His excellent wife survived 
him. I have heard the old man say that he was born in the 
same year with George IV.— 1762. He was the friend and 

Literary Deansgate. 173 

executor of Mr Thomas Barritt, the antiquary, and had in 
his possession the celebrated sword of the Black Prince, or 
of Edward III., of which so much has just been written. I 
wonder what became of it .' — With best wishes, very truly 
yours, F. R. RAINES." 

Mr Aston seems to have been surrounded to the last by 
an affectionate partner and dutiful children. This is much. 
In life — in the world's theatre — "all is well that ends well." 
Chateaubriand, in a pensive mood, has asserted that " any 
hand will serve to reach us the last cup of cold water." 
True. The stranger's hand may indeed suffice for the sad 
office, while adding to the water's coldness an icy chill — as 
the less fortunate brothers of the pen or the press may one 
day prove to their sorrow. But when, as with Mr Aston, 
the relieving hand is prompted by affection or guided by 
filial duty, the parting spirit may well feel soothed, and 
•some heart-music from our wedding-chimes may mingle 
with our coming funeral-knell. 

Learning, by the courtesy of a member of the family, 
that the venerable literary worthy lay interred at Tonge, 
adjoining Middleton, an obliging friend went thither by a 
convenient train, and copied the brief inscription that 
follows. The lettering appears on a flat stone, in the 
south-west corner of the churchyard, and is supplemented 
by other names connected with the family : — 

"In memory of Joseph Aston, of Chadderton 
HaU, who died October the 19th, 1844, aged 
81 years. Also Elizabeth his wife, who died 
July the 20th, 1852, aged 84 years." 

This inscription on Mr Aston's gravestone is duly 
respectful and pleasing, so far as it goes ; but it leaves a 

1 74 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

desire for something more. Some reference, however 
slight, to his long and honourable connection with the 
literature of Lancashire would prove a welcome addition. 
Of course two views may be taken of this question, as an 
anecdote will serve to illustrate. When Voltaire visited 
Congreve, the latter observed in conversation that he felt 
prouder of being a gentleman than of being an author. 
"Doubtless," retorted the French wit, "there are many 
gentlemen in England, but only one William Congreve. 
Had you been nothing more than an English gentleman, 
even of the highest degree, Voltaire would never have 
travelled from Ferney for the pleasure of speaking with 
you." Need the similitude be brought nearer home ? 
There have doubtless been many respected owners of 
Chadderton Hall, but only one Joseph Aston, wielder of 
the pen and the press. 



" Mute place of rest ! We leave our dead, 
With hopeful glance on high, 
To Him who, watching o'er the world. 

Still guards us when we die : 
And joy may sparkle in our eyes. 

However prone to weep. 
To know that, through the Saviour slain, 
Our lost ones do but sleep." 


ALTHOUGH, writing literally, a churchyard may not 
be termed a street, it is nevertheless the portal, 
solemn and mysterious, leading to the Silent Way we are 
all destined to tread. From this general category we 
must of necessity exclude two unfortunate sections of our 
fellow-beings — first, the hopeless suicides who, wildly 
anticipating their fate, are buried beneath the uncon- 
secrated stones of the cross roads ; and, secondly, the 
victims — far more numerous — of the deep sea. In either 
case, the sleepers are severed from the epitaph or the 
forget-me-not ; and the only monody vouchsafed to the 
first is the rumble of the waggon wheel, — to the last, the 
fitful wail of Undine, or of some sister Spirit of the 

Treeless and barren as the yard now appears, with 
scarcely a bush within the distance of a mile, it once pos- 

1 76 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

sessed spreading branches and seasonable leaves — too 
many, indeed, for the public safety. A singular accident, 
bearing date January 15, 1581, is thus recorded : — "Margret 
Wilson, a Kendall woman, slane with a tree in the church- 
yard." Whether the Westmoreland dame was entangled 
by the boughs and so " slane," like Absalom in the wood 
of Ephraim, or was felled by the storm king in his fury, we 
are left to surmise. About this period the " church stile " 
is officially mentioned as being then in general use. In 
1579 appeared an order of the Court Leet too quaintly de- 
scriptive to be omitted here : — " That William Lindley 
shall, from the old ancient quickwood standing in the east 
end of his garden hedge to the green quickwood beneath 
the apple-tree towards the churchyard, set his hedge 
straight where now he hath diverged without the apple- 
tree." A century later there is further evidence of the 
rural aspect of the burial ground, thanks to the curious 
diary "maid by Philip Burnell, grave macker:" — "1678, 
January ist. — John, sun to John Jepson in Dainsgait, liath 
est in the churchyard, about a yerd deep, just at the little 
plane tree over against Calin Cum's door." The lapse of 
another century wrought little change in the landscape, as 
shown by a conveyance dated 1783: — "Down to the 
river Irwell, and the whole length from the Irk bridge to 
the garden place, then lately enclosed and belonging to 
the House of Correction, on which said plot there were 
formerly, or then were, poplars and willow-trees growing." 
We have lingered as long as may be with the apple- 
trees and orchards, in bloom or in fruit, with the gardens 
and stiles, of the Old Churchyard. Even now we leave 
them regretfully, because Nature never murmurs at a con- 

The Old Churchyard. 177 

scientious description of her flora, nor feels the least 
punctilio when her sylva is faithfully portrayed. In her 
secure presence we need not wear the softest Indian 
moccasins to prevent an accidental pressure on a tender 
corn. But when we return to our fellows — to the family 
trees, as expressed in heraldry — the prospect wholly 
changes. The juvenile branches diverge so widely from 
the parent stems, that often, as Sir Walter Scott found and 
affirmed, they are nearer in blood than in disposition or 
sympathetic feeling. So any writer who seeks to gratify 
both sire and son, and yet meet the public claim for truth- 
fulness, will find enough to do. However remote the 
subject in hand, or however tenderly treated, some sensi- 
tive feehngs may unwittingly be wounded. An incident 
will more fully illustrate our meanings Not very long ago, 
wishing to recall in print the scenic triumphs of a departed 
player, and knowing we could not better please a Thespian 
than by linking his name with that of the immortal 
Athenian stroller, or by showing his near approach to the 
Roman Roscius, we referred to his gravestone for any 
dates or other information it might contain. We were 
pleased to find the mortuary inscription lengthy and the 
suburban grave well kept, but must own to feeling a trifle 
crestfallen as v/e perused the chiseled lines which piously 
lamented the sinfulness of his early theatrical career. As 
we could not serve two masters, any more than the Phari- 
sees could serve God and Mammon, we travelled no fur- 
ther in the direction indicated, but left the player to his 
forgetfulness in the green churchyard. Oblivion often 
proves a welcome veil, which never should be lifted with 

an unkindly hand. 


1 78 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

An indenture, made in 171 1, shows that Sarah Broster, 
widow, owned the Black Boy Tavern, "together with its 
orchards and gardens, lying at the north-east corner of the 
Collegiate Church." This property afterwards passed to a 
friend of the Broster family, Elizabeth Bennion, of Man- 
chester, who devised it in 1784 for the benefit of the 
charity school in the Old Churchyard, "supported by the 
subscriptions of well-disposed people and by the offer- 
ings at the church." Two years later the houses came, by 
will, under the guardianship of one of the ministers, who 
sold them to a fellow clergyman, the proceeds being added 
to the funds of the charity. At a parish meeting, held in 
1808, it was announced that "the old charity school in the 
churchyard was blown down and destroyed." That build- 
ing, never replaced, has passed from the public memory, 
but its funds are still distributed in connection with the 

It was on this convenient and consecrated spot, so long 
devoted to peace and sanctity, that Mr Whitaker ventured 
to construct, alone and unaided, a summer camp for the 
Roman soldiers. Here the camp still remains, at least in 
print, as likewise in the too-confiding belief of the popu- 
lace. But from such unsupported theory Mr Clarke, in his 
" Lancashire Gazetteer," thus humorously dissents : — " He 
(the reverend historian) concludes, without a shadow of 
.proof or reference, that the Romans placed what he calls a 
summer camp on the site of the present Collegiate Church, 
though no antiquities have been there discovered; as if 
soldiers habituated to the sun of Italy could want cooling 
in such a climate as this part of Britain must have been in 
the early centuries of the Christian era." Mr Whitaker, 

The Old CJiMrchyard. 1 79 

as we learn from Taylor's " Records of my Life," was one 
of the few men whom Doctor Wolcot, a shrewd judge of 
mankind, regarded with particular respect for his intel- 
lectual powers ; and we are further informed by the same 
authority that the Manchester historian told Wolcot " he 
envied him the power of making people laugh by his writ- 
ings," which, he said, he had often attempted in his own 
narratives, but never succeeded. Hence, we may conclude, 
his pen-pictures, though sufficiently romantic, were not 
enriched with the relieving- lights, the sunny effects, which 
genuine humour alone can give. Well might he envy 
Peter Pindar this rare quality — peculiarly English — which 
Thackeray happily defined as " a mixture of love and wit." 
A sweet-tempered offspring, truly. 

Several praiseworthy efforts have been made from time 
to time by local literary hands to trace the rise and 
progress of letterpress printers, booksellers, binders, and 
stationers in Manchester, which is in reality tracing the 
advancement of mental culture in the town. Only partial 
success has rewarded those efforts, leaving somewhat 
vague conclusions. The gravestones and parish registers 
will now enable us to form a brief authentic record in 
chronological order, so far as it seems needful to extend 
the subject — to the date of the first Manchester Direc- 
tory. Thenceforward the inquiring reader, if patient and 
persevering, will be enabled to continue the record for 

After the destruction in 1588 of the wandering and 
widely-known Marprelate press, our first traceable stationer 
is John Browne, buried in the Old Churchyard on the 
lOth of May 1612. Of our next stationer, William Shel- 

i8o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

merdine, two items of intelligence are preserved. A 
son and namesake of his was baptized in 1619 ; and on 
the 20th of February 1653, he was hither borne to his 
rest. The long interim is, as regards the Shelmerdines, 
a blank. In 1637 was baptized a daughter of Thomas 
Smith, " buckbinder." Six years later, on the title-page 
of a civil-war tract, Mr Smith appears as a bookseller : — 
" Lancashire's Valley of Achor is England's Doore of Hope. 
London: Printed for Luke Fawne, and are sold by Thomas 
Smith at his shop in Manchester, 1643." While still in 
the eventful reign of Charles the First, we meet with 
a singular appeal emanating from this tradesman, and 
addressed to the Lords of the Privy Council. The tran- 
script subjoined was copied from the original in the Public 
Record Office, London, communicated by a friend to the 
Rosicrucian Brethren of this city, and circulated in one of 
their recent reports : — 

" Petition of Thomas Smith to his worship to be allowed to con- 
tinue the trade of bookseller in Manchester, whither he ]|removed 
when the former bookseller left the town, and has furnished the 
place with all sorts of Latin and English bookes allowed by authority 
to be sold. 

" The humble petition of Thomas Smith humbly showeth — That 
whereas your petitioner hath been a bookseller this four or five 
years in the towne of Barnstaple, and haveing not sufficient tradeing 
there to maintain himself and his charge, removed from thence to 
the towne of Manchester (where there had beene a bookseller for- 
merly, but by his misdemeanor ran himselfe so deeply into men's 
debts that he was forced to depart), where your petitioner hath soe 
behaved himself and furnished the place with all sorts of Latin and 
English bookes allowed by authority to be sold, that he hath gained 
ye custom both of towne and countrey. May it therefore please y"^ 
worship to take the premises into your consideration, and give y' 
petitioner (whose conformity to or'" discipline and sufficiency in y" 

The Old Churchyard. 1 8 1 

trade is certeyfyed by letters testimonial!), such encouragement that 
he may continue there in his trade dureing his good behaviour ; and 
y' petitioner, his wife, and children shall ever be bound to pray for 
y' worship long life and happiness." 

This document, interesting in itself, and necessary to 
the completeness of our narrative, has induced us to 
trespass on the good-nature of the Brotherhood. The 
unique gem shone so winningly in its original case, that 
we could not resist the temptation of transferring it to 
our own casket. We fear kleptomania is contagious. 
Commend us to the beaten literary path ! It is so 
pleasant to follow in the wake of a conscientious writer 
who has cleared away the briars that encumbered the 
road. In this way proficiency may be displayed at a 
cheap and easy rate ! 

The gravestone of Thomas Smith was last seen, in 
fragments, on the north side of the Cathedral, opposite 
the Derby Chapel. Here is all that remained of his 
memorial : — 

" Here resteth the body 

Thomas Smith of Mane 

okseller who was 

the 27 th day of Febrv 

As the name of the town occurs in almost every entry, 
we need not repeat it further. On May Day 1657, 
Nathaniel Heathcote,. stationer, buried a son; after which 
insertion we must pass from the sombre rule of Oliver 
Cromwell — "The Man of Huntingdon" — to the frivolous 
reign of. the Merry Monarch, when we find WiUiara 
Shelmerdine's business continued by his son Ralph, 
who published in 1661 a coronation sermon, preached 

1 8 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

at the Collegiate Church by Warden Heyrick. This fact 
appears in a contribution of Mr Axon's to Notes and 
Queries ; a copy of the sermon itself — now rare — is pre- 
served in Mr Crossley's library. Of domestic felicity 
Ralph Shelmerdine received more than a common share, 
being favoured in 1663 with twin daughters, supplemented 
four years later by twin sons. With the last year of the 
century his book of life was closed. In 1673 Abraham 
Holland, bookseller, Hanging Ditch, became a Benedict; 
and at sundry seasons, ending in October 1681, this dealer 
is named in connection with the birth or death of his 
offspring. In the poll-book of 1690 he is rated for two 
children and a maid. His demise is not chronicled; but 
he was born at Crumpsall, March 1640. Robert Hilton, 
bookseller, married in 1678, took the oath of allegiance 
to Charles the Second in the following year, had a son 
baptized in 168 r, and then vanishes from the records. 
One year further, Mordecai Moxon, stationer, registered 
a christening; and on several subsequent occasions Mr 
Moxon, personally or by proxy, visited the old font. On 
taking the oath of allegiance, accompanied by Robert 
Hilton, he was styled " gent." The date of his decease ' 
does not appear, the latest entry referring to the family 
being the burial of his daughter, March 1693. In 1683, 
Adam Martindale, the diarist, arranged with " Mr Moxon, 
bookseller in Manchester," for the publication of a 

As the two entries that follow next in rotation, though 
very brief, possess some historical interest, they are given 
verbatim :— " 1692, Sepr. 11, Thomas Hud, of Manchester, 
printer," buried. " 1693, March i, Jonathan, son to John 

The Old Churchyard. 183 

Greenwood, of Manchester, printer," baptized. These 
being our earliest printers, careful search has been made 
for additional information, but the solitary item given in 
each case is all that can be traced. 

The next bookseller of the town was Ephraim Johnston, 
whose name is repeatedly seen, between 1694 and 1701, 
in the Collegiate registers, and who published several con- 
troversial pamphlets which are still hoarded by local 
collectors. Contemporary with Johnston was Zachary 
Whitworth, of Smithy Door. In the poll-book of 1690 
Zachary is accredited to the amount of one shilling. As 
the tax was a shilling a head, he was. then dwelling alone, 
having no poll to pay for except his own. On the 30th 
November 1697 he was buried. Zachary's successor, 
John Whitworth, likewise of Smithy Door, had a son born 
unto him in 1706, and another, Robert, in July 1707. 
This Robert, afterwards the well-known printer of the 
Manchester Magazme, is erroneously stated in "Collectanea" 
to be the son of Henry Whitworth. According to the in- 
scription on the family gravestone, at Cross Street Chapel, 
John Whitworth died August 2, 1727, aged sixty-four. 

An amateur dealer in literary wares at that period was 
Edmund Harrold, a wigmaker by trade, whose picturesque 
shop in Market Stead Lane was not a whit more peculiar 
than its tenant, as his queer diary demonstrates. With a 
habit of bartering, he sometimes took books in payment 
for wigs, again parting with the volumes in return for plain 
hair, which his nimble fingers quickly converted to profit- 
able uses. When exchanges were not available, he made 
cash purchases, chiefly from his neighbour in Smithy 
Door, John Whitworth, though he blames him for having 

184 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

two notes — " either to extol or run down commodities, as 

served his interest." Harrold drew out a catalogue of his 

books ; held public auctions ; and when Manchester buyers 

were served, he travelled to Ashton, Stockport, and other 

surrounding places in search of fresh bidders. So Edmund 

Harrold may be considered our original literary Cheap John. 

Roger Adams, as many readers are aware, was the 

printer and proprietor of the first Manchester newspaper, 

issued in January 17 19. The first book, also, printed in 

this town is accredited to his office ; although that point 

is debatable, one fact is clear — no Manchester-printed 

book bearing an earlier date than Roger's is at present 

producible. Nothing seems to be known of Mr Adams 

prior to the birth of his journal. In all probability he 

came from Chester, whither he ultimately returned, and 

conducted the Chester Courant until his decease, when it 

was continued by his widow. Very soon after settling 

here, his name is found in our registers — the births and 

burials being frequent. On the 17th of April 1720, 

his twin son and daughter — Orion and Dorothy — were 

baptized. A copy of the inscription on the flat stone „ 

covering his family grave in the Cathedral yard, near the 

Hope and Anchor Tavern, will be of some interest through 

its associations, besides constituting a residential proof : — 

" Here resteth the body of Peter, son to 

Roger Adams, of Manchester, Printer, 

bur'd Novbr ye 9, 1 7 1 9. 

Roger, his son, buried March the 

1 2th 172I. 

Thos. his son buried Janry ye 

4th 1725." 

Orion, the surviving son of Roger Adams, was one of 

The Old Churchyard. 185 

those rolling stones that seldom gather moss, or if gather- 
ing, seldom retain. A little maiden picking buttercups 
is just as thrifty, and not an unfitting emblem of the 
itinerant printer whom everybody knew and liked. If 
her pinafore be filled to overflowing with the yellow 
favourites, they escape at their own " sweet will " as she 
stoops to place a flower under the chin of her playmate, 
a.sking innocently, " Do you like butter ? " Pity he did 
not write his wayward memoirs, leaving them as a 
legacy to posterity. Such book would have been a 
suitable companion to Ryley's " Itinerant." To either 
hero would the witty description of a spendthrift equally 


" John ran so long, and ran so fast, 

No wonder he ran out at last ; 

He ran in debt, and then, to pay. 

He gave leg-bail, and ran away." 

Orion's roving habits prevented his succession to his 
father's steady business ; but he branched oiif upon his 
own account, and as a master-printer tried his fortune at 
various towns in England and Ireland. At Manchester 
his chief speculations were the Humourist, published in 
1750;* and, two years later, Orion Adamses Weekly 
Journal. The latter half of his life was passed in work- 
ing as a journeyman or in lengthy pedestrian excursions — 
never allowing the grass to grow under his active feet. 

* The only number of the Humourist we have seen is thus fully de- 
scribed on its first page : — " The Humourist : or Magazine of Magazines. 
Calculated for the Improvement and Entertainment of the People of Lanca- 
shire, Cheshire, &c. Numb. III. For Saturday, November 3, 1750. To be 
continued once a Fortnight. Manchester : Printed by Orion Adams, at the 
Smithy-Door ; where Printing Work in general is neatly performed, at 
Reasonable Rates. MDCCL. Price Twopence." 

1 86 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

He is described as the cheery and welcome companion 
of typos and of players. However far his vagaries might 
lead him, Orion usually returned to Chester as his home. 
From that ancient city he started on his wedding trip to 
Frodsham ; and near its noted walls and rows he breathed 
his last, at the age of seventy-seven. Dying wellnigh 
penniless, Orion required no lawyer to frame his last will 
and testament, nor was any legacy duty payable thereon. 

For further particulars touching Orion Adams, the reader 
is referred to the " Dictionary of Printers and Printing," by 
Charles H. Timperley — one of those patient writers who 
perform more useful work for the public than the public 
ever reward. Of Mr Timperley, though living in our own 
time and neighbourhood, we never knew much. Once or 
twice we called at his little bookshop, at the corner of 
Old Millgate, holding him in conversation while buying 
a copy of his "Annals of Manchester," which was the 
extent of our acquaintance. But we know from other 
sources that he had his share of the shifting scenes of life, 
mainly of a downward tendency. A footnote appended 
to the preface of his principal work, issued in 1839, is 
more explanatory : — " I received the rudiments of my edu- 
cation at a day-school in my native town, Manchester, 
and was afterwards removed to the Free Grammar School, 
under the Rev. Thomas Gaskell. Early attached to read- 
ing, I have remained all my life an ardent inquirer after 
knowledge. From the month of March 1810 (being then 
little more than fifteen years of age), to November 28, 
1815, my days were passed in the 33rd Regiment of Foot, 
from which I obtained my discharge (with a pension of 
one shilling a day) in consequence of wounds received 

The Old Churchyard. 187 

at the battle of Waterloo. During those years I had few 
facilities of self-improvement. Having been apprenticed 
to an engraver and copperplate printer, I resumed the 
latter on returning from the army ; but, from a distaste 
and other causes, in the year 1821 I adopted the pro- 
fession of a letterpress printer, under indenture with 
Messrs Dicey & Smithson, proprietors of the North- 
amptott Merairy. Adopting the profession of a printer 
with the view of affording me that literary information 
which I so ardently desired, I endeavoured to become 
acquainted with its history. From this desire arose the 
' Lectures,' at Warwick ; the ' Songs of the Press,' at 
Nottingham ; and, finally, the ' Dictionary of Printers and 
Printing,' with the 'Printer's Manual,' at Manchester." 
Learning incidentally, by an article in the Bookseller, 
February 1861, that Mr Timperley had died while writ- 
ing for Messrs Fisher of London, we referred to the 
obituary columns of Sylvanus Urban for corroborative 
evidence, but in vain. The departed scribe, who had 
lovingly recorded names and dates and ages for countless 
others, apparently found no recorder of his own demise. 
A correspondent of the Manchester and Salford Gazette 
states that Mr Timperley, in 1845, ^^s associated with 
Mr G. N. Wright in the editorial part of "The Gallery of 
Engravings," three volumes quarto ; and afterwards adver- 
tised a new book entitled " Laconics of the Press," which 
remains, we believe, unpublished. The unsold copies of 
Mr Timperley's "Manual" and "Dictionary" passed from 
Messrs Bancks to a London publisher, who, in 1842, re- 
issued them together as one work, under a new title, " The 
Encyclopaedia of Literary and Typographical Anecdote." 



" I call the world a gay good world. 
Of its smiles and bounties free ; 
But Death, alas ! is the king of the world, 

And he holds a grave for me. 
The world hath gold, it is bright and red ; 

It hath love, and the love is sweet ; 
And praise, like the song of a lovely lute ; 

But all these with Death must meet. 
_ Death will rust the gold, and the fervid love 

He will bury beneath dark mould ; 
And the praise he will put in an epitaph, 
Written on marble cold ! " 

Maria Jane Jewsbury. 

ONCE more in the Cathedral Yard. The heavy- 
sleepers, countless in their number and endless 
in their variety, who have been hither borne, and whose 
dust has been accumulating (as we will endeavour to 
show) upwards of a thousand years, have silready found 
their historians in a costly illustrated work, "The Foun- 
dations in Manchester," the joint production of Messrs 
Hibbert-Ware, Whatton, and Palmer. Many inscriptions 
are there copied, while the burial-ground and its sanc- 
tuary are treated with considerate assiduity. Consi- 
derate any churchyard gleaner will assuredly be who 
remembers he is merely a passing arbiter between the 
coming and the gone, and that at any moment the Sister 

The Resting-P lace. 189 

Fates may again close their shears. Even now, the names 
of these authors, all three, are found in the obituaries — 
their " labours of love " being all that remain to the world. 
So, briefly and simply, as one of the generation next 
succeeding, we will pay unto them the same courtesy of 
remembrance which they have paid unto others. 

The remains of Dr Hibbert-Ware rest beneath a hand- 
some monument in Ardwick Cemetery. The upper com- 
partment of the slab bears a tribute to the memory of 
his brother, Lieutenant-Colonel J. Hibbert, C,B., late of 
the 40th Regiment, who died November 12, 1847. Under- 
neath appears the following inscription : — 

" Here are also interred the remains of 
Samuel Hibbert-Ware, M.D., F.R.S. Ed., 
&c., formerly Vice-president of the Antiquarian 
Society of Scotland, author of the ' History 
of the Founders of the College and Collegiate 
Church of Manchester,' the ' History of the 
Shetland Islands,' the ' Philosophy of Ap- 
paritions,' and various other works. He was 
bom in St Ann's Square, on the 24th April 
1782, and died at his residence. Hale Barns, 
Cheshire, on the 30th December 1848." 

At the back of the slab appear inscriptions to the memory 
of Sarah, first wife of Dr Hibbert' Ware, who died in 1822, 
and was buried at Edinburgh ; William, his second son, 
who was surgeon of the 15th Hussars, and perished near 
Hyderabad on the 30th January 1837, in consequence of 
the setting on fire of a jungle by some hostile natives ; 
Sarah, his daughter, who died on the I2th of August 
1839, and was buried at Knaresborough, Yorkshire ; and 
Charlotte Wilhelmina, his second wife, who died on the 

190 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

1st of August 1835, and was also buried at Knares- 
borough. One other name may now be added : Elizabeth, 
his third wife, died at Hale Barns, near- Altrincham, on 
the nth of May 1873, aged seventy-three years, being 
interred at Bowdon. 

It was the expressed intention of Dr Hibbert-Ware, had 
his life been prolonged, to continue the history of our 
ancient church to the recent period when it became a 
Cathedral. In the three volumes of the "Foundations" 
already published, the manuscript collection of Mr John 
Greswell, a former schoolmaster at Chetham's College, 
proved of essential service. 

With respect to Mr Whatton, we regret that a lack of 
information will prevent us from rendering adequate 
justice to his memory. Seeing that he was a member of 
the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester, and 
also the librarian, we referred with some confidence 
to its published " Transactions " for an appreciative memoir 
of its talented past officer, but failed in our search. The 
local newspapers of the day were little more communicative 
or satisfactory in their obituary notices, one journal stating 
his age to be forty-five, another fifty. However, the vary- 
ing prints agreed that "William Robert Wharton, Esq., 
F.R.S., F.A.S., and one of the surgeons to the Royal 
Infirmary, died on the Sth inst. [December 1835], in 
Portland Place, after a severe suffering." The members 
of the Medical Society addressed to Mrs Whatton a letter 
of condolence on the bereavement which separated one 
of their brethren from his dearest connections "almost at 
the moment when he was realising the main object of his 
ambition and the reward of his past labours." It is known 

The Resting-Place. 1 9 1 

that Mr Whatton meditated and partly executed an 
extensive biographical work embracing the Worthies of 
Lancashire; but, after inserting a few of the memoirs 
in his History of the Free Grammar School and of 
Chetham's Hospital, he confided the remainder of his 
materials to Mr Baines, who incorporated them with his 
history of the county. 

Mr John Palmer was a native of Bishop Middleham, 
Durham. A manuscript leaf in his handwriting states 
that "in February 1804, Mr Palmer removed from his 
native place to Scoon Palace, near the city of Perth, in 
Scotland, when he was nineteen years of age. At Scoon 
Palace he remained nearly three years, during which 
time he learned the rudiments of architecture, while 
that palace was in progress of rebuilding. From Scoon 
he went to London, and remained there about two years ; 
hence in March 1808 he went to Yarmouth, in Norfolk, and 
remained there during the time the Naval Hospital 
was erecting at that place. While he remained at 
Yarmouth he married Miss Smith of Norwich ; and in 
the spring of 181 1 he again returned to London; and 
after continuing there upwards of two years, he removed 
to Manchester in August 1813. In 18 14 he commenced 
the restoration of the window in Strangeways Chapel, 
within the Collegiate Church, Manchester; and from time 
to time continued the restoration of the fabric of the 
church for some years. The Catholic Chapel in Granby 
Row was not only designed by him, but executed 
under his superintendence." Mr Palmer's literary works 
were the " Siege of Manchester " and the " Architectural 
Description of the Collegiate Church." The following 

192 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

inscription is copied from his gravestone: — "Johannes 
Palmer, architecta, obiit die 23 mensis Augusti 1846 anno, 
setatis suae 63. Also of Harriet, wife of the above John 
Palmer, who departed this life September 28, 1852, aged 
61 years." 

Scarcely any portion of the " History of the Foundations 
in Manchester " need be quoted in these columns. That 
which is already well done should be allowed to rest. 
No newcomer would be justified in making a hasty raid 
over literary ground already efficiently traversed. The 
points of interest necessarily overlooked by the writers 
of that work, together with the new matter — or rather 
the old resuscitated since their time, — will be found amply 
sufficient for the present purpose. 

Resuming the chronological list of printers, binders, 
booksellers, and stationers commenced in the previous 
chapter, the first in order is William Clayton, who was here 
baptized in August 1679, ^'^^ married at the beginning 
of 1708. It appears he served his apprenticeship with 
Ephraim Johnston, bookseller, already mentioned, and 
succeeded him in a prosperous business. At his shop at 
the Conduit, in 1719, he had the credit of introducing 
to the town Mr Jackson's " Mathematical Lectures," 
considered to be the first book printed in Manchester. 
Another local work of his publishing, dated 1724, was 
" An Introduction to the Skill of Music," by Edward Betts, 
organist of the Collegiate Church. In the year next 
ensuing he died. From his gravestone within the Cathe- 
dral two items may be selected : — " William Clayton, 
stationer, buried April 3, 1725, aged 46 years." "Rev. 
John Clayton, M.A., Fellow of this College, died Sepr. 25, 

The Resting-Place. 193 

1773, aged 64 years." The minister was one of the sons of 
the stationer. We need not dwell on this reverend gentle- 
man's familiar interview with Prince Charlie at the head 
of the rebel army in 1745, nor upon the interest with 
which he witnessed the Manchester regiment mustered 
in the Old Churchyard ; these incidents, together with 
his flight and return to his ministry, are patent to the 
citizens. Of the Rev. John Clayton a characteristic trait ■ 
appears in the journal of Charles Wesley, who visited 
Manchester in 1756: — "I stood close to Mr Clayton in 
church (as all the week past), but not a look would he 
cast towards me, ' So stiff was his parochial pride.' " 
Mr William Clayton's bookselling and stationery business 
was continued during a few years by his youngest son and 
namesake, who dying at the youthful age of twenty-six, 
was here interred, January 27, 1736. The oldest refer- 
ence in the registers to this family applies to the baptism 
of the minister's grandsire, as thus : — " 1644, Oct. 13, John, 
son of Samuel Clayton." 

Contemporary with the younger Clayton was Robert 
Whitworth — so far, at least, as the morning and evening of 
life, or the beginning and ending of commercial pursuits, 
may be called contemporary. As the printer of the second 
Manchester newspaper, more attention has been paid by 
previous writers to Robert Whitworth than to the majority 
of our bygone pressmen ; so we may briefly add our mite 
of information and pass on. His printed books and pam- 
phlets yield evidence that he became a master-printer 
while very young, probably upon the decease of his father, 
in 1727, and thereupon removed from Smithy Door to a 

shop in the Market Place—" betwixt the Angel and Bull's 


194 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Head Inns " — as thus defined by himself in a permanent 
line printed at the top of his Manchester Magazine. The 
earliest book known to be printed by Robert Whitworth 
is a volume of miscellaneous poems, bearing the date of 
1733. Mr Whitworth was twice married ; in 1741 at Man- 
chester, and seven years later at Stretford. He died 27th 
October 1772, aged sixty-five. The burial-place of the 
Whitworths is at Cross Street Unitarian Chapel. 

Mr Whitworth's long-tenanted shop has been rescued 
from oblivion. In 1823, when the doom of Market-stead 
Lane had been pronounced, a local artist, John Ralston, 
hastened to snatch a general view of the Market Place 
before its aspect became entirely metamorphosed. A 
similar " labour of love " had been previously performed by 
Messrs James. Mr Whitworth's shop — with projecting 
staircase and railed terrace — was then (1823) dignified as 
the " Post-office," being in the occupation of Mr James 
Harrop, who died in that year. The site of those peculiar 
premises may be readily traced, inasmuch as the original 
Bull's Head still surveys, with a surly nonchalance, the 
altered prospect around, albeit his gentle neighbour, the 
Angel, hath taken wing from his frowning side. 

The busy yet homely scene preserved by the artists 
represents Manchester at market in the third year of the 
reign of "the fat Adonis of fifty." Our parents are shown 
in the act of bartering (doubtless with due thriftiness) for 
the good things of the table, — " table traits," as Dr Doran 
might define them,T— whilst we of the present generation 
were standing in wonderland at our mother's side, or left 
cosily in cradles to dream of the angels, or smile in 
recognition of those mysterious visitants, who are poeti- 

The Resting-Place. 195 

cally supposed to keep watch and ward over the blossom- 
ing affairs of babyhood. The holiday group in front of 
the saddler's shop seem a disappointed group, — possibly 
country cousins come to enjoy all the fun of Acre's Fair, 
and find it just removed to Camp Field ; or they may be 
amateur turfites, who, having lost their wages in betting 
against the Doge of Venice winning the gold cup on 
Kersal Moor, are doubtless surveying with deep sighs the 
well-provisioned market. The cluster standing beneath 
the oil-lamp have more important business in hand ; a 
general meeting of the inhabitants is about to be held in 
the Exchange (with Dr Davenport Hulme in the chair), for 
the purpose of founding the Royal Institution. The con- 
sequential gentleman nearest to the entrance is clearly one 
of the long line of Johnny Newcomes, with trade-filled 
purses, who have since bought up so many of the landed 
gentry. In the solitary figure adjacent to the railing, 
there can be little difficulty in recognising Mr Wootton, 
who, in this year, came all the way from Nottingham to 
remove the dangerous ball and cross from the tall, 
tapering spire of St Mary's Church, Parsonage. We must 
now hasten, like General Morris's woodman, to " leave the 
spot ; " else the large market spectacles may look into our 
motives for tarrying so long, as once they scrutinised the 
late Joseph Perrin, while peering hereabouts for his Green 
Mantle. So turn we again to our booksellers. 

In a contribution to Notes and Queries, Mr Axon states : — 
" There was a bookseller in Manchester named Thomas 
Hodges, who published a charge of Bishop Peploe's ; " but 
we have failed in our search for further traces of such 
publisher. Neither can we fill the vacancies left by two 

196 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

vague initials, "A. S.," printer of a short-lived journal in 
1738-39. After passing a baptismal entry touching the 
daughter of one Richard Lees, bookbinder, bearing date 
October 1738, and then glancing at the burial record, 
three years afterwards, of William Holmbe, printer, the 
name of Falkner thus appears in the Collegiate registers : — 
" 1742, June 16, Mary, daughter of Matthew Falkner, 
bookseller," was buried. Another Matthew Falkner — the 
Matthew — was married to Ann Harrop, in July 1764. 
From the entrance of the first member of that family to 
the exit of the last, nigh upon a century elapsed ; and the 
several branches of the bookmaking and newspaper trade 
engaged their attention. Mr Falkner in 1773 was trading 
in the Market Place — formerly the literary Rialto of the 
town, where all the bookworms clustered. In our thirteenth 
chapter we briefly described the demolition by a mob of 
Messrs Falkner & Birch's Herald office, and the sequel 
of that political outrage is now presented. The statement, 
taking the obituary form, is from the pen of Mr Joseph 
Aston, a personal friend of the sufferers, and is worth 
reviving here, as showing the shady side of a Manchester 
street:— "On the 8th inst. [March ^1824] died, in the 
eighty-sixth year of his age, at Burnley, Mr Matthew 
Falkner, formerly of this town, where he carried on the 
business of a stationer and bookseller with both credit and 
profit, till, seduced into political opposition, and submitting 
to be made the catspaw of a party that deserted him in the 
adversity which followed, one of the kindest-hearted of 
mankind was driven from his country, and his fortunes, till 
then prosperous, entirely ruined. He remained in America 
from the year 1793 till 1806, when he returned to England, 

The Resting- Place. 197 

in the vain hope of rescuing a part of his property from 
the whirlpool in which it was involved. He whose hand 
records his death well knew the worth of Matthew Falkner, 
who in early life ate the bread of active industry, in middle 
life shared his prosperity with every child of want who told 
him a tale of misery, and in his age was dependent on one 
whom he once hoped to enrich." 

Two brothers, Thomas and William Newton, were con- 
sidered dealers of mark by the book-buyers of their period. 
When the inscription on the gravestone of the Newtons 
was copied by Mr Owen, a few years ago, a very small 
fragment remained to tell the .family story. John, the 
elder of the house, was parish clerk of this town ; his son 
Thomas kept the old Coffee-house near the Exchange, 
subsequently conducted by his widow — the sons of the 
said Thomas being the booksellers. The death of one of 
these bibliopolists, and the marriage of the other, are thus 
chronicled in the Mercury: — "Last week [February 1758], 
died, much lamented [aged thirty-seven], Mr Thomas 
Newton, an eminent bookseller of this town. With an 
uncommon share of good nature, he preserved the esteem 
of all his friends, and acquired the ill-will of nobody. The 
business will be carried on by his only brother." The wed- 
ding is announced in the descriptive and communicative 
terms usually applied in the last century, which seem a 
little comical to modern readers, because a simpler style 
prevails ; but Taste is a terrestrial comet, ranging without 
a fixed orbit, while her twin-sister Fashion is ever chang- 
ing with the moon. " On Tuesday last [April 1762], was 
married at the Collegiate Church, Mr William Newton, 
bookseller, to Miss Parren, an agreeable young lady with 

198 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

a handsome fortune." We fancy Miss Parren would 
scarcely feel complimented on finding herself merely 
" agreeable," while her fortune was so decidedly " hand- 
some." William Newton was still pursuing the trade with 
success in 1773, and occupied one of a row of shops stand- 
ing at the entrance to the present Exchange Street. A 
view of the homely range, sketched by the timely pencil 
of Thomas Barritt, has found a niche in the College scrap- 
book, as likewise in our own pages. Mr William Newton 
died in April 1794. A few traces of the Rev. Thomas 
Newton — ^William's son — are given in the first volume of 
the " Admission Register of the Manchester School," pub- 
lished by the Chetham Society. 

Abraham Clarke, who impressed his name as a book- 
seller upon the memory of the Manchester public, originally 
came, it appears, from Cumberland. In 1748, and again 
in September 1754, he was married at the^ Collegiate 
Church. The extensive and profitable concern which he 
created was retained in his family during a long series of 
years. Over the clear, unruffled tide of their affairs it is 
pleasant to skim, in swallow fashion, until our flight is 
arrested by the warning injunction which bids us " look to the 
end," such end being a family grave, situated at the eastern 
part of St Ann's Churchyard. The inscription on the flat 
stone may be read as follows : — 

" Here lyeth the body of Abraham Clarke, 
bookseller, who died May 20, 1775, aged 60. 
Arabella, wife of Abraham Clarke, bookseller, 
who died May the 31, 1754, aged 35 years. 
Also Isaac Clarke, bookseller, his nephew, 
who departed this life June 18, 18 16, aged 72 


The Resting-P lace. 199 

years. Ann Clarke, wife of Isaac Clarke, of 
Manchester, who died October 6, 18 10, aged 
63 years." 

In approaching the next in rotation, Joseph Harrop, it 
is somewhat difficult to conceive that one hundred and 
twenty-two years have gone by since he launched his 
Mercury, which is still a source of frequent reference to the 
literary antiquaries of the district. Many are the hours, 
yea, days, that we have sat in the sunlight reading in its 
yet living columns the records of the buried past. Of 
course, not in the sunlight as it glistened upon dewdrops, 
but in the beneficent rays that gleamed through the 
painted windows of the College recess. In April 1749, 
Joseph Harrop and Ellen Williamson were married at the 
Cathedral, and three years afterwards he started his long- 
lived newspaper. One of its early issues — the ninth, we 
believe — ^was adorned with a singular picture of the printing 
office, wherein the Mercury staff is shown busily engaged 
in the production of the two small leaves of intelligence of 
which that weekly newspaper consisted. As both printers 
are assiduous, the tardy publishing day seems approaching, 
when a very limited number of copies would be required, 
chiefly by traders at the market. The facsimile here 
traced will form a curious counterpart to the modern office 
of a leading daily newspaper — a huge pile of building, 
crowded with hurried workers ; while the noise of its 
marvellous machinery, and the nightly blaze of its gas, 
may faintly typify the warfare of the elements. Elsewhere 
Mr Harrop's public career as a journalist has been narrated, 
and it may suffice to add a few reliable facts of a domestic 
nature, gleaned from his gravestone in St John's Church- 

200 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

yard, Byrom Street. The names of a few juveniles are 


" Here resteth the body of Joseph Harrop, 
who died January 20th, 1804, aged 76 years. 
Ellen, wife of Joseph Harrop, printer, who 
died January 12th, 1772, aged 44 years. 
Mary, his wife, who died December 25 th, 
1 801, aged 56 years. Thomas Harrop, who 
died April 25th, 1843, aged 62 years. James 
Harrop, died January 12th, 1775, aged 34. 

In an adjoining grave are interred Mr Harrop's three 
daughters as under-named : — Frances, died March 23, 
1791, aged 16; Mary, died December 14, 1856, aged -j^; 
and Sarah Ann, who died at the age of 84, on the 17th of 
September 1862. Beneath another stone in the same 
churchyard reposes Mr Harrop's best-known son and 
successor — " James Harrop, who departed this life February 
the 22nd, 1823, aged 60 years. Also Nancy Elvins, his 
wife, who departed this life 23rd May 181 1, aged 44 years." 
Mr James Harrop was a person of multifarious business 
pursuits, described in the Directory for 1797 as " printer 
bookseller, stationer, stamp distributor, medicine vendor, 
and post-office." 

On Saturday, 9th March 1754, appeared the second 
number of the Manchester Journal, printed and published 
by J. Schofield and M. Turnbull, "at their printing-office 
down the Fountain Court, at the back of the Exchange ; 
where all manner of printing work is performed with the 
greatest accuracy and despatch. At their shop in the 
Deansgate also may be had new books and pamphlets, 
maps, pictures, &c., where books are bound in the neatest 
manner. At either of which said places subscriptions and 

The Resting-P lace. 201 

advertisements for this paper are taken." Mr James 
Schofield afterwards became a bookseller at Scarborough, 
where he died in August 1798, aged sixty- three. Of 
Mr M. Turnbull we have no further account. 

In January 1756, T. Anderton, bookseller, binder, letter 
case and pattern book maker, was in business in the Old 
Millgate, at the Shakespeare's Head, near the Market 
Cross. In 1762 he printed and published the Manchester 
Chronicle; or Andertoti s Universal Advertiser. He further 
undertook general engraving work, especially signs and 
cyphers upon innkeepers' tankards and cups — the durable 
drinking vessels then in vogue. 

John Prescott, printer of another Manchester Journal, in 
1771, was, like Mr Anderton, a bookseller in Old Millgate. 
After a lengthened residence here, he removed to Bedford, 
near Leigh, where he died, aged seventy-nine, on the 13th 
of April 181 1. At the same village, in December 1824, 
died his only surviving daughter, Miss Prescott. She was 
the writer of a small volume of poems. 

John Haslingden, bookseller, stationer, and occasional 
publisher, residing and trading in Cannon Street during 
the greater portion of a long life, terminated his business 
career at the close of the last century. His period will be 
indicated by the dates of his two marriages — first, in 1760, 
at Liverpool, and secondly, in 1787, at Rochdale. 

The next five appearing on our list are ephemerals, 
possibly workers who never rose to be masters, or who 
left the town to rear their families elsewhere : — Edward 
Warren, printer, 175 S; John Pue, printer, 1760; William 
Norton, printer, 1761 ; James Bottomley, printer, 1763 ; 
Thomas Roylance, stationer, 1771 ; were each and sever- 

2 o 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ally united to their brides-elect at the dates given, but 
nothing further is seen of them. Within the same period 
two other typos were duly present with their partners 
at the altar — Robert Blacklock, in 1759, and Charles 
Wheeler, in 1770; but with these surviving names we are 
not prepared to linger beyond quoting a portion of an 
epitaph that appears near the north door of the Cathedral : 
— " Here resteth the body of Charles Wheeler, of Manches- 
ter, who died on the 9th of September 1827, aged j6 years. 
Mary, his wife, died November 13, 1796, aged $0 years." 

John Hopps, bookseller, described as a worthy and re- 
spected character, lies buried on the north side of Flixton 
Church, nearly opposite the entrance to the well-known 
and well-worn footpath leading through Mr Wright's 
grounds. The following is a verbatim copy (save one 
corrected figure) of the inscription on the flat stone cover- 
ing his remains : — " In memory of John Hopps, late of 
Manchester, bookseller. He was born on the 4th day of 
March O. S. 1740, at a village call'd Helwith, near Rich- 
mond, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, and departed 
this life October the 30th, 1823, in the 83rd year of his 
age. Also Betty, his wife, departed this life August 14th, 
1804, aged 50 years." The bookselling business of John 
Hopps, with the addition of a circulating library, remained 
in his family until 1840. 

Casting a backward glance at Thomas Hodges (page 195 
ante), it now appears that the fifty-seventh number of the 
Lancashire Journal, printed and published by John Berry, 
at the Dial near the Cross, on Monday, July 30, 1739, con- 
tains an advertisement of certain books " on sale by Mr 
Newton and Mr Hodges, booksellers in Manchester." 

The Resting-Place. 203 

Having now brought our chronological record to the 
date — 1772 — when the first Manchester Directory was pub- 
lished, we may transfer our office of indicator to that mer- 
cantile guide, and seasonably take our leave of the printing, 
binding, stationery, bookselling, and newspaper depart- 
ments of the trade. 

In the chapter thus closing we are afraid we have offered 
to the reader that which we would rather avoid — a dry 
catalogue of facts and figures, a classified resume of dates 
and occurrences, unrelieved by romantic incident or poetic 
fancy. Of course, in a commercial city the utilitarian 
element will be fairly appreciated ; yet even here we soon 
become wearied of its sternness and sameness, which 
beget a longing for a few rose-leaves to blend with the 



" Dear me ! what a large portion of ' the world ' bows down to the goddess 
Appearance ! We had shops once, but we have none now. Our shops have 
become ' Emporiums,' ' Marts,' ' Saloons,' ' Pantechnethecas.' The goddess 
Appearance smiles on them, and they thrive : but the music of a Blondel's 
lute shall yet solace simple Truth in her captivity." 

William Francis Peacock. 

"O Y the Dene Gate of Yore we mean the narrow path- 
^-^ way which, existing from very remote years, began at 
the Old Bridge and ended at the Blenorchard or Walle- 
greenes. The Blenorchard has been described as a wilder- 
ness of trees and underwood, occupying the space between 
the modern Bridge Street and Jackson's Row, or there- 
abouts. To this vague scene no precise date can be 
affixed ; but certainly Time has pursued his unwearying 
pilgrimage during many hundreds of years since the last 
of those trees was felled. With that uncertain yet 
romantic period this chapter will find little concern. 
Being rich in the materials of which melodramas are con- 
structed, the barons and castles, the magicians and caves, 
have been efficiently treated by Mr Harrison Ainsworth, 
and by other Manchester writers of less literary mark. 
This relieves us much. Had the task been left in our 
hands, we might have hesitated before placing our unin- 
sured life within arrow-range of those threatening loop- 


(um^/ieJ-^^r r^ ?iea/ier ?3cmmf/i 7H/T- ^h^lim^^ilm, itU' a, .f/iaai^u./. ru:/i, ami /u^mMi/ <9n/ani^ %n/fi, /«■ d^cr J^imi^re/ cr^lja0rn/. an^,yifja/i 6a^ /cart- ^Z^' X'df^^M-/iir^,:^l/iM/r ty^^m a ^Iv/ti,^ ^'/^, ai- fAr ctr?i/iu^^-^ i/f£id-7iH,'t^rjf/?'A., ^fc ■%-n^l, ^tni/ini/ rt a?7 /^/nr TiiirrtA MJ-i 


The Dene Gate of Yore. 205 

holes ; with the frowning barons, mailed, lanced, and 
shielded, our acquaintance would be scarcely more con- 
genial; and from all incantations of the black art, or 
piercings of bewitching eyes, preserve us. 

The wilderness of underwood having gradually yielded 
to the exigencies of town life, the spot was agreeably 
suburban in 171 1, and known, as now, by the designation 
of Ridge Field, its characteristics being verdant meads and 
cherry-gardens. A number of deeds, leases, and the like, 
containing earlier notices of the Ridge family, were in the 
possession of a city shopkeeper a few years ago, but have 
now vanished, probably wasted by piecemeal, or pum- 
melled to obliteration by some industrious goldbeater's 
hammer. In Dugdale's " Visitation " appears a reference 
to " Robert Ridge, of Ridge, county Salop, gent. ob. circa 
1 560 ; " but the first of the family connected with Man- 
chester was his great grandson, Robert Ridge of Marple, 
married at our Collegiate Church, in January 1614, to 
Helen Shepley (not Shepheard, as printed in Dugdale's 
" Visitation "). This Robert was buried at Warrington in 
1669. We have been favoured with a lengthy list of their 
births, deaths, and marriages, occurring mainly at Stock- 
port, Romiley, and Manchester, and ranging between the 
years 1584 and 1825. One item is peculiar, giving a 
glimpse of English social life during the Protectorate — a 
brief period of time, but full of strange fascinations for the 
student of history — " 1656, Richard Hartley and Frances 
Ridge, of Marple, published at the Market Cross, in Stock- 
port, 6th, 13th, and 20th of June." Another document, 
anno domini 1673, relates to a transfer of a burgage or 
tenement, with one garden, near a certain street commonly 

2o6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

called the Danesgate, from Jonathan Ridge and Jane his 
wife to Edward Mosley of Holme and Edward Gay thorn 
of Manchester. In addition to the records already cited, 
there is in the middle aisle of Stockport Church a broken 
gravestone to the memory of Grace Ridge, aged eighty- 
three, grand-daughter of the aforesaid Jonathan. 

Crossing over to the Parsonage, we find that, in 1780, 
one of its residents was Mr John Quincey, linen-draper, 
uncle to the "English Opium-Eater." In the previous 
year Mr Quincey was married to Miss Martha Goodyear, 
of Ardwick. His residence was bounded, it seems, on the 
north and west by "a narrow street or passage called 
Black Fryars ; " while on the other points of the vane his 
prospect is thus shown by an extract from a lease dated 
1758 : — "The orchard or garden plot adjoining the river; 
it is now fenced out with hedges and ditches." Some 
years earlier mention is made of a summer-house, fruit 
trees, and plants in abundance, with " free liberty of way 
to the spring or well called the Parsonage Well." In 
1686, Thomas Heyrick of Manchester, gentleman, leased 
a " tenement and parcel of land abutting upon a messuage 
and garden heretofore in the possession of George Tipping, 
deceased, and now the dwelling-house of the warden 
[Richard Wroe] of the said College ; bounded on the east 
part with the old Parsonage ditch adjoining to the tene- 
ment of Mr John Oldfield. Close by are or were the 
residences of John Nield, Hugh Boardman, Richard 
Haworth, Esq., and lately Jane Haworth, his widow." A 
worn parchment proves the existence, in 1698, of " Par- 
sonage Croft;" another of "Parsonage Pool;" and an 
order of the Court Leet, 1594, required the tenants to "go 

The Dene Gate of Yore. 207 

along the hedge-side, keeping the footway towards the 
Parsonage style, for their fetching of water from the river." 
In 1765, an advertisement in the Mercury mentions " the 
sign of the Grey Horse in or near Parsonage Brow." St 
Mary's Church covers the ground once known as the 
Parsonage Green. 

The interest of this description of the Parsonage lands 
will be much enhanced by a reference to Buck's Prospect, 
a faithful portraiture of the locality in the year 1728. It 
illustrates the entire length of the " Dene Gate of Yore," as 
viewed from the river, — conveying more satisfying infor- 
mation at a glance than the pen can furnish in a chapter. 
The large gardens (Mr Quincey's, Mr Tipping's, Mr 
Sedgwick's, and others), to which we have separately 
alluded, are here seen in pleasant rows. The doubting 
reader who may have fancied our orchards were mythical, 
our stiles and summer-houses mere day-dreams, will find 
such misgivings agreeably removed. The bountiful trees 
are depicted in full bearing. No wonder we love them. 
Green-leaved, blossom-scented, or russet-hued, we have 
ever prized them — the more so when made vocal with 
singing-birds. There is more attraction in trees than 
usually meets the eye : not unfrequently they aid in 
moving the heart. In one of these trees — flourishing 
within a garden near the Old Church — a winsome maiden 
of fifteen summers, named Silence Wagstafif, was once 
gathering fruit. As the truthful story goes, it was a scene 
of cherries all round — cherry lips, cherry cheeks, cherry 
fruitage. Let Herrick revive the glowing picture : — 

" Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry. 
Full and fair ones — come and buy. 

2o8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

If so be you ask me where 

They do grow ? — I answer, There, 

Where my JuHa's hps do smile — 

There's the land, or cherry-isle ; 

Whose plantations fully show 

All the year where cherries grow." 

While thus pleasingly engaged, Silence chanced to be 
observed by a young gentleman of Cheshire, Mr John 
Leigh, of the family of Leigh of West Hall, and nothing 
less than marriage at the earliest opportunity would satisfy 
his love at first sight. And married they were. After a 
few years of wedded bliss, the orange blossoms were suc- 
ceeded by the widow's weeds. In the absence of their 
wedding register, we here substitute the tombstone inscrip- 
tion — less a few figures worn away — as it appeared in the 
north aisle of the chancel of the Cathedral : — 

"John Leigh, died Decern: 17, 1738, 
Peter, his son, died April 10, 1753, 
aged 20." 

"Saynte Mary Gayte" — thus spelled in 1552 — led, as 
the Rev. John Whitaker conjectured, to a certain, or rather 
uncertain, wooden church, which once flourished, as he 
further surmised, on the site of the present Exchange 
Street. Much rather would we, in this instance, be a 
confiding Stephen than a sceptical Thomas of Didymus ; 
but in the absence of proof our doubts may be excused, 
especially as we hope to justify them by some recent 
discoveries, reserved for our final chapter. The one strong 
point in favour of Mr Whitaker's conclusion — and probably 
his inducement thereto— is the ancient nomenclature of 
St Mary's Gate, but all corroborative evidence is lacking. 

The Dene Gate of Yore. 209 

Often have we heard of human bones being dug up here- 
about, but never could trace them to an authentic source. 
Even if such exhumations really occurred, they would 
not, unsupported, prove the pre-existence of a churchyard. 
Human bones have been revealed in various parts of the 
city. At the New Cross, in April 1846, two coffins were 
laid bare, and their contents examined ; these were the 
remains of suicides, formerly buried at the cross roads. A 
bootcloser, named Smith, who had hastened his end in 
the frenzy or despondency of love, was one of the 
castaways; another was a young woman-servant, who 
poisoned herself in September 1808. In April 1753, an 
ostler at the Swan and Saracen's Head, Market Stead 
Lane, was found hanging in the stable. At the inquest, 
the jury returned a verdict of "self-murder;" and the 
body was ordered to be " drawn upon a sledge, and buried 
at four lane-ends, with all his clothes on, and to have a 
stake driven through his body; which was executed on 
Tuesday forenoon, in the presence of a numerous con- 
course of spectators." So we read in the newspaper of 
the period. Of others we have no published account, 
saving the latest, said to be a soldier, who committed 
suicide in 1821. While pursuing our researches, we glean 
that on one particular Thursday morning in July 1798, 
the workmen employed in digging the foundation of some 
outhousing at Mr Halliwell's (now Halliwell Lane), near 
Cheetham Hill village, discovered a human skeleton 
about a yard under ground. Twelve years previously, a 
servant woman in the neighbourhood was suddenly missed, 
and never afterwards seen ; so there was sufficient reason 
to suppose she fell a victim to a secret murderer, who as 

2 lo Memorials, of Manchester Streets. 

secretly buried her, and that these were her poor remains. 
More recently similar remains were found at the lower 
end of Miller Street j and in September 1869 a skull and 
several large bones were seen during an excavation at the 
corner of Marsden Street and Brown Street : in neither 
instance did any traces of coffins or furniture appear, 
nor could any satisfying explanation be obtained, though 
much interest was awakened at the time. At Mayfield, 
Moss Side, was interred a victim of the plague, the grave- 
stone, bearing the following inscription, being visible until 
lately : — " Here lyeth the body of Margery Beswicke, wife 
of Hugh Beswicke of Hulme, who departed this life the 
29th of September 1645." Two or three entries in the 
parish registers denote that the plague-stricken inhabitants 
were sometimes buried at the cabins in Collyhurst; while 
others are supposed to have been interred near George 
Street, Hulme, as human remains were there dug up in 
the summer of last year (1872). 

We next pass Shepherd's Court, Deansgate, its antiquity 
being indicated by a brief entry in the burial register : — 
"1612, Jany. 4, Cislie, widdowe to Richard Travis, dyed 
at Thomas Andrewes in Shepp-des Court." An incor- 
porated fragment, — ^just a corner post of a half-timbered 
building resting upon its original ashlar foundation, — may 
still be seen. Of the neighbouring court — Sedgwick's — it 
may be noted that the late Mr James Everett, author of 
the " Panorama of Manchester," and other works, resided 
here ; but as we are not prepared to enter at large into 
the literary or general merits of this well-known Wesleyan 
preacher, a passing mention must suffice. Some day we 
may be enabled to pay him a more satisfactory visit at 

The Dene Gate of Yore. 2 1 1 

his bookshop in Market Street, where his " Panorama " 

was published. In November 183 1 James Montgomery, 

the Sheffield poet, was the guest of Mr Everett, in 

Sedgwick's Court. On looking from the window of the 

house, situated on the rock overhanging the Irwell, the 

poet said, " Mr Everett, you do not dwell in a Parnassus 

here ; and if this be your Castalia which flows below, it 

is certainly both a turbid and a turbulent stream just 

now." The buildings forming this court were erected 

about 1690 for Mr James Johnson, and purchased in 

1707 by Mr Roger Sedgwick, one of the feoffees of the 

Blue-Coat School. Mr Sedgwick's garden is marked on 

the large Prospect published between the years 1729-34. 

A few doors lower, on the same side of Deansgate, 
stood the printing-office of Messrs Sowler & Russell, 
whose business had previously been carried on at Hunt's 
Bank. In Deansgate the originator of the Manchester 
Coiirier newspaper was born. A detailed account of the 
Sowler family, written by Mr Crossley, will be found in 
the' second volume of the "Admission Register of the 
Manchester School." To that biographical sketch may 
now be added the inscriptions cut upon an altar-tomb 
in Bowdon churchyard, and placed within view of the 
wide-spreading yew-tree — the sylvan patriarch — so long 
forming an attractive feature of the scene : — 

" Sacred to the memory of Thomas Sowler, 
of Manchester. Born 2d July 1789; died, 
at Bowdon, i8th November 1857. Also in 
loving remembrance of John, youngest son of 
Thomas Sowler, of Bowdon, who died June 
IS, 1 87 1, aged SI years. 
" Thou, O Lord, hast done as it pleased Thee." 

212 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

"Also of Florence Emily, grandchild of 
Thomas Sowler, and infant daughter of 
Thomas and Emily Sowler. Born March 
17, 1871 ; died March 3, 1872." 

" Sacred to the memory of Mary Helen, 
daughter of Thomas Sowler, of Bowdon. 
Born 7th August 1822; died, in London, 
6th June 1855." 

" Also of Harriet, wife of the Rev. Bevis 
Green, youngest daughter of Thomas Sowler. 
Born September 17, 1824; died, at Brom- 
yard, February, 27, i860. Also -of Charles 
Edward, infant son of John and Ellen Sowler. 
Born 17th August, died 27th September, 

By way of illustrative contrast to this chapter on the 
Dene Gate of Yore, the idea had been entertained of re- 
producing and here inserting a panoramic view — drawn 
about 1830 — of a portion of modern Deansgate, enlivened 
on each hand by familiar names, signboards, and shops 
(inclusive of the tiny " Noah's Ark " once quaintly gracing 
the corner of St Mary's Gate). As this panorama, though 
desirable in the main, presented some difficulties, it was 
ultimately withdrawn. We were loth to disturb an 
arrangement giving life and character to the scene ; yet no 
choice remained, without encroaching on the commercial 
mediums. Advertisements floated before our vision in 
all directions, whilst the Critic's catalogue of puffs, "direct, 
preliminary, collateral, collusive, and oblique," as rattled 
forth by Charles Mathews upon the stage, was fresh in 
the recollection of the reader. To render a book generally 
informing, and at the same time generally pleasing, is a 
desirable union not always attainable. 



' ' No grown-up person who has resided in Manchester even twenty years 
is unacquainted with the mighty changes that have passed over its suburbs 
during that period ; while those who have lived here thirty, forty, and fifty 
years tell us of circumstances and conditions almost incredible. ... I allude 
to these changes and contrasts in order to invite attention to the desirable- 
ness of their history being written before the actors in them and the witnesses 
shall be all gone." 

Leo Hartley Grindon. 

■XT OTWITH STANDING the serious tendencies of 
■*■ ^ looking backward, as exemplified in the sad fate 
of Lot's wife — with the pillar of salt in full view, we will 
venture to cast a backward glance along the metamor- 
phosed thoroughfare we have sedately traversed, from the 
Medlock at Knot Mill to the Irwell at the Old Bridge. 
Such reviewing will enable the writer to supply a defi- 
ciency here, or mark a correction there, to the mutual 
advantage of himself and his readers, 

Mr Jesse Lee, a worthy local writer and genealogist, 
who is not remembered in proportion to his merits, re- 
sided some time in Crown Street, Great Bridgewater 
Street, as a cellector of tonnage, afterwards removing to 
Hulme, where he died, at the age of fifty-three, on the 

17th February 1844. The remarks appended to his 


214 ^ Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" History of the House of Stanley " show that he was a 
conscientious editor : — 

"Having brought down to the present day the genealogical 
account of the House of Stanley, it only remains for the editor to 
make his valedictory remarks. Ninety-nine years have now elapsed 
since Mr Seacombe'^ history was printed, which was brought down 
to the year 1735 only; and of the various reprints of his work that 
have been published, no additions have been made until the pre- 
sent edition, which will be found considerable. The ' Genealogia,' as 
beforetime given, for want of proper arrangement, was almost unin- 
telligible, even to those well skilled in such matters ; consequently 
great liberty has been taken with it, and another prefixed more in 
accordance with the descent of the noble family, and somewhat 
more novel; whilst the various collateral branches have not been 
overlooked. It is therefore hoped that any errors of names or dates, 
— for different authorities vary much in them, — may be favourably 

" HuLME, Manchester, August 1840. J- LEE.' 

For the same publisher Mr Lee prepared an elaborate 
edition of the works of John Collier, with an extended 
glossary, but his labour was entirely wasted, the enterprise 
failing in consequence of the publisher's bankruptcy. Mr 
Lee, as the Recoi'der informs us, was " a native of Roch- 
dale, but settled at Manchester in early life," In the 
unfortunate Tim Bobbin speculation the editor was not 
the only sufferer, as Mr James Stephenson, the artist, 
found to his cost. Drawings, together with engraved 
plates and blocks, completed or in progress, to the value 
of one hundred pounds, were left useless upon his hands. 
Misfortune has a trick of clinging to some people in a 
pertinacious manner. In the early part of the current 
year (1873), Mr Stephenson was a competitor for the 
honours of the Royal Academy, when the blindfolded 

A Retrospect of Deansgate. 2 1 5 

goddess failed to see his deserts, though his sterhng 
qualities had long been patent. Seldom, we fancy, will 
the presiding deity smile on a worthier Associate, or on 
a better engraver, than the veteran in question. 

In the will of Mr Robert Gregson, dated 1795, mention 
is made of his lands in Gregson Street, Watson Street, and 
elsewhere. Thirteen years previously Mr Gregson had pur- 
chased a portion of these lands from Mr Roger Aytoun 
and others. 

In St John Street resided during two decades or more 
the author of " Sir Percy Legh, a Legend of Lyme, and 
other Ballads," a dainty little volume, issued at Manches- 
ter in 1862. The brief preface informs us that "they were 
composed during visits to Lyme, as the writer's contri- 
bution to the evening's entertainments at that delightful 
mansion. The traditions on which they are founded were 
related by the late Mr Legh, and amplified by his accom- 
plished lady. The estate of Lyme was the reward of the 
valour of an ancestor of the present possessor on the field 
of Cressy. The subsequent achievements of the heroes of 
the House of Legh at Agincourt and elsewhere are matters 
of history." After the publication of " Sir Percy Legh," 
the writer thereof amused his leisure by versifying other 
traditions ; making, when requisite, the oral accounts more 
consistent and complete. Apparently his aim was to pre- 
serve in verse the Palatine legends not included by Mr 
Roby in his prose narrations ; and certainly in one of his 
new stories, entitled "Bramhall Hall," the romantic ele- 
ment is not lacking. A mail-clad warrior, after special 
service in the wars, returns to claim, or rather to win, his 
affianced though unseen bride, a fair daughter of Bram- 

2 1 6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

hall. Succeeding in his suit, the wedding is nevertheless 
prevented by the death of the adventurous knight, who is 
slain in the forest by a band of marauders on his refusal 
to pay tribute to their leader, a Cheshire Robin Hood. 
In another of the ballads, " Marple Hall," a young cava- 
lier, bearing despatches, seeks and finds shelter for the 
night at the home of the Bradshaws, and in the morning 
he is drowned, through the treachery of his guide, while 
crossing the ford. Clearly it is not well — barely safe — 
to be a hero. To find the dainty Captain Plumes thus 
made the merest sport of fortune, losing their peerless 
brides as soon as won, and compelled to die at the critical 
time when life is most enchanting, all this cross purpose is 
sufficient to make an everyday man thankful for his com- 
monplace existence. Possibly this is not the moral the 
author intended to be drawn ; and if so, he will try to 
excuse our somewhat wilful departure from his teaching. 
In each instance, at Bramhall as at Marple, a ghost wan- 
dered — mayhap still wanders — in search of retributive jus- 
tice ; but those ghostly visitants we prefer to leave unmo- 
lested in their " ancient solitary reign." Thirty years ago 
this gentleman was an occasional contributor to a literary 
magazine published in our city. Quite recently the re- 
membrance of those days, youthful and pleasant, induced 
a desire on his part to give a friendly call to some of his 
fellow-contributors. On casting up their names, he was 
startled to find that he must visit nearly all in their 
narrow homes. From the favourite editor to the bard in 
the poet's corner, scarcely an odd one remained upon 
earth. Although not of a tearful nature, nor morbid in his 
anticipations, he could not help feeling, in an earthquake 

A Retrospect of Deansgate. 217 

like this, the ground tremble beneath his feet. The 
inscription chiseled upon a family gravestone, now in- 
visible, but still lying beneath the Derby Chapel, in the 
Cathedral, indicates the name and kindred of the author 
of " Sir Percy Legh." The record it bears may be thus 
deciphered : — 

" Here resteth the remains of John Leigh, 
late of Manch'', who departed this life July 
1797, aged 61." 

Turning from his grave, we catch a glimpse of his youth 
in the first volume of the "Admission Register of the 
Grammar School : " — " 1744, Nov. 22. — John, son of John 
Leigh of Manchester, tradesman. Of the family of Leigh 
of West Hall, Cheshire. His grandfather was Peter Leigh, 
M.A., rector of Whitchurch, Salop, rector of Lymme, and 
vicar of Great Budworth, Cheshire." 

The Mercury, in 1776, announces the sale of "two 
closes of land, belonging to Samuel Clowes, Esq., called 
'Purgatory' and the 'Lion's Den,' in Manchester, opposite 
and near to a certain street called the Quay Street." 

When treating of Cumberland Street, we ought to have 
named Mr Moses Hughes as one of its residents. This 
musician was a member of the Theatre Royal orchestra 
nearly half a century, his favourite instrument being the 
oboe, on which he was considered unrivalled in Britain. 
On the evening preceding his decease, during the perfor- 
mance of Miss Kelly, he occupied his usual post, when he 
suddenly fainted, and was carried to his home, where he 
died, on the 26th of November 1836, aged seventy-one. 
Mr Hughes, who was born near Wigan, served an appren- 

2i8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ticeship in Liverpool. He was much esteemed for his 
moral worth, as well as for his musical talents. 

Except by the aid of pictured views or written de- 
scriptions, the younger part of our population can know 
nothing of primitive Deansgate, the main artery of the 
once wooded, castellated little town. Only our elders, with 
beards and sidelocks turned grey, have the privilege of 
recalling to memory the latest lingerers of its picturesque 
homes and hostelries. But whosoever shall journey forth 
to Chester, and wander along its singular rows, may still 
feast his eyes and humour his fancy with similar fantastic 
dwellings. The influence of those rows upon ourselves 
was peculiar. As we crossed the noble bridge that spans 
the Dee, and perambulated the principal street divid- 
ing the city, the friendly eaves and attics projected over 
the pathways, as if desirous of embracing ; and we were 
forcibly reminded of a merry Scottish lilt — "We're a' 
noddin' at our house at hame." 

While thus ruminating with the eaves, oriel windows, 
and gables of the two palatine cities, or with their memories, 
our attention has been drawn to a gentle controversy 
touching a kindred structure of some historic interest. 
In certain letters recently printed, endeavours have 
been made to fix the locality of the Eagle and Child 
Tavern, where Taylor, the Water-Poet, lodged (as his 
homely rhymes inform us) during his stay in Manchester, 
the hostess being Mistress Saracole, with John Pinner for 
his principal boon companion. With all their modern 
knowledge, the astute correspondents were hunting for a 
fact that was patent to every Mancestrian two centuries 
ago. Time is the veriest of misers, continually hiding his 

A Retrospect of Deansgate. 219 

treasures. So when we pine for " a missing link " of any 
description, we have only to seek, and we shall assuredly 
find ; but we must delve deeply into the sand which the 
great Traveller sheds from his hour-glassi Our first 
witnesses (one baptism and five burials) are subpoenaed 
from the Collegiate registers, and will depose to the 
names of John Taylor's friends :— 

" 1600, Male 3. — Barbary, wief to John Beamond, alias Pynner." 
" 1603, Oct. 23. — Raphe, sonne of John Sorrocolde, vintner. 

" 1 62 1, Maye 17. — John Sorracold, of Manchester, vintner.'' 
" 1623, Aug. 2. — Margery, widowe of John Beamond, alias 

" 1623, Sep. 8.— Edward Beamond, alias Pynner." 
" 1628, Aprill 29. — Robarte Soracould, of Manchester, inn- 

Thus far of the persons named by the Water-Poet. Next 
let us search for the house and its sign. In the primitive 
years when Manchester possessed no newspaper of her own, 
she advertised her wants and published her more important 
occurrences in a metropolitan print, the London Gazette. 
In those time-obscured columns, so little known to pro- 
vincial searchers, a friend of ours has enj'oyed divers clan- 
destine peeps, ever and anon adding another "wrinkle" 
to his previous furrows. This sage mentor keeps a good- 
natured guard over our antiquarian footsteps, leading us 
back to the correct historic line when we chance to di- 
verge, however slightly. The subjoined extracts from the 
Gazette we have verified : — 

171 1, June 16. — One John Oldham, a bankrupt, is required to 
surrender himself " at the Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Man- 
chester aforesaid." 

2 20 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

1717, December 17. — The assignees of John Chadwick an- 
nounce a meeting "at the house of Mr Hawkeswell, being the 
Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Manchester, in the said county of 

1725, December 4. — Joseph Barnes, woollen dyer, is required to 
surrender himself ""at the house of Samuel Heathcott, innkeeper, 
being the Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Manchester aforesaid." 

1734, November 12. — "Commissioners intend to meet at the 
Eagle and Child Coffee-house in Manchester, commonly called the 
Old Coffee-house." 

The earliest mention we can find is dated 23d August 
1708, when the Commissioners in Bankruptcy announced 
their intention to meet " at the Eagle and Child Coffee- 
house in Manchester." Afterward, as will be observed, the 
sign was frequently named in legal advertisements. 

The range of buildings of which the Old Coffee-house 
formed a part was sketched by Thomas Barritt. Under- 
neath the Coffee-house the amateur artist has pictured the 
shop of Mr Newton, bookseller. In 1756 Mr Newton held 
an auction of books in the public room above his place of 
business. The site is further demonstrated by an aged 
resident, whose reminiscences of the Market Place in 1772 
are recorded in the second volume of " Collectanea ; " he 
observes — " Where Exchange Street is now was Newton's, 
the bookseller, where the gentlemen used to go to know 
what the bells were ringing for. Newton's was under the 
Old Coffee-house." Collectively, this evidence points with 
reasonable distinctness to the precise rood of ground on 
which John Taylor (a sturdy pilgrim, proud of his pedes- 
trian achievements) lodged while sojourning here. That 
the house was located in a Manchester street, and not 
at the suburban Temple, will now remain undisputed — as 
may be assumed — until the lapse of another century or 

A Retrospect of Deansgate. 221 

two, when the fact may be again forgotten — to be once 
more retrieved. 

The Water-Poet's description of his entertainment will 
be novel to the majority of our readers. We quote from 
the "Journal of Nicholas Assheton," edited by the Rev. 

Canon Raines : — 

" I must tell 
How men of Manchester did use me well ; 
Their loves they on the tenterhooks did rack ; 
Rost, boiled, baked too, too much, white, claret, sa'cke ; 
Nothing they thought too heavy or too hot, — 
Canne followed canne, and pot succeeded pot ; 
That what they could do, all they thought too little. 
Striving in love the traveller to whittle. 
We went into the house of one John Pinners 
(A man that lives among a crew of sinners). 
And there eight several sorts of ale we had, 
All able to make one stark drunk or mad ; 
But I with courage bravely flinched not. 
And gave the town leave to discharge the shot. 
We had at one time set upon the table 
Good ale of hisope, 'twas no vEsop's fable ; 
Then had we ale of sage, and ale of malt. 
And ale of wormwood, that could make one halt ; 
With ale of rosemary and betony. 
And two ales more, or else I needs must lye. 
But, to conclude this drinking alye tale, 
We had a sort of ale called scurvy ale. 
Thus all those men at their own charge and cost 
Did strive whose love should be expressed most ; . 
And, further, to declare their boundless loves. 
They saw I wanted, and they gave me gloves. 
In deed and very deed their loves were such. 
That in their praise I cannot write too much ; 
They merit more than I have here compiled. 
I lodged at the Eagle and the Child, 
Whereat my hostess (a good ancient woman) 
Did entertain me with respect not common. 

2 2 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

So Mistress Saracole, hostess kind, 

And Manchester with thanks I left behind." 

Here the Water-Poet and his " Pennyless Pilgrimage" 
may be securely left to the good care of their newest 
friend and literary entertainer, the Sp^enser Society of this 

Whilst these chapters have been passing through the 
serial or chrysalis stage, much has been said and written, 
thoughtfully, banteringly, and otherwise, by sundry citizens 
concerning the name of Deansgate. If we venture to 
add a few remarks upon street nomenclature in general, 
perhaps from the crowd of suggestions some useful 
hint may be gleaned, as it is out of the abundance of 
chaff that the grain cometh. It is usually considered 
desirable that the history of a town should be indicated 
and preserved, so far as practicable, in the nomenclature 
of its streets, bridges, and other public erections. The 
thoroughfares or byways outlined upon our primitive 
maps or described in our earliest chronicles are landmarks 
to the historical student, and their names should descend 
as heirlooms through one generation of inhabitants to 
another. Their preservation may be advocated upon the 
same principle, or rather from the same feeling, that moved 
the American songster to protect his tree against the 
woodman's stroke, or that caused our own English Jack 
to defend his bean-stalk. From the highways to the 
notables who have paced them, leaving honourable foot- 
prints behind, is an easy, natural step ; and it is pleasing to 
find how much has been effected in the direction of local 
history. The nobility whose seats encircle the city, the 

A Retrospect of Deansgate. 223 

landed gentry of its suburbs, the worthiest of its citizens, 
in whatsoever direction their worthiness may lie, — ^these 
have been largely recognised upon the public signboards 
and institutions, systematic extension being alone re- 
quired. As we have John Dalton Street to represent its 
science, might not Henry Liverseege be allowed to typify 
its art? And as Byrom Street may be regarded as a 
memorial of its poetic literature, would De Quincey be an 
vmsuitable reminder of its excellence in prose? When 
Shakespeare's Juliet plaintively inquired, "What's in a 
name?" she was thinking (apart from Romeo) of roses 
with universal perfume — not of provincial streets with 
local significations. 



" We have no sympathy with those torpid beings who can walk from 
■Billingsgate to Carlingford, and cry ' All is barren.' Many are the associa- 
tions which a dissertation suggests ; but chiefly and briefly will we touch upon 
reminiscences historic, poetic, and domestic. Alas for the days that are no 
more ! " . 

William Gaspey. 

ARRIVING at length at the bottom of Deansgate, we 
■^^- reach the birthplace of John Easby, or, more cor- 
rectly writing, we reach the uncovered ground — Smithy 
Door Bank — where that picturesque (and often described) 
dwelling used to stand. John Easby's name is almost 
unknown to the present generation, though in his day 
familiar enough, especially to the sporting fraternity, or 
in theatrical circles, where he had many friends. A cheery, 
free-and-easy writer, he could tilt his pen in any direction 
he chose. A report for the Era, a squib for Bob Logic's 
Budget, a sketch of the political leaders of his day, or a 
description of the country towns he visited, with scenes 
by the wayside, flowed from his pen with equal freedom. 
When the bird happened to be in full feather, the grate- 
ful song was not lacking : the chaste article, the edifying 
lecture, even the lay sermon, was written or delivered. 
The exact date of Mr Easby's death is unknown to us. 

Smithy Door Bank. 225 

He appears described as a reporter in the Directory for 
1850, and in the succeeding issue as a tobacconist and 
beer retailer, carrying on business in Lower Mosley Street 
— a place of refreshment soon afterwards conducted by 
John Bolton Rogerson. As John Easby's name disappears 
from the Directories in 1855, it is probable he died prior 
to that period. For his epitaph we have made no inquiry, 
thinking the quest would prove as bootless as seeking 
some particular leaf that falls in the forest. An anony- 
mous twopenny pamphlet, now seldom seen, will favourably 
represent its author : — " Random Scenes from the Life of a 
Manchester Green-Coated Schoolboy; his trials on the 
Stage, the Press, the Platform, and the Pulpit. Written 
from memory, by himself. Manchester, published by Abel 
Heywood, 58 Oldham Street, 1851." After quoting this 
lengthy title-page, we must give only a moiety of the 
dedication to his schoolfellows : — " In whatever station, 
under circumstances however painful, I fervently hope 
you have not dishonoured our cloth — the green coat, green 
vest, green stockings, leather breeches, and napless black 
hat. Bless you, young friends of my youth." John 
Easby's address at the date in question, — 28 Church 
Street, Salford, — is appended. As the brochure before us 
(green-coated, like its writer) is all that we can find to 
represent his literary life, the only spar left floating when 
the vessel went down, we will give a liberal specimen,^ — ■ 
as liberal as our present space and a due respect for 
the publisher's copyright will permit : — 

" Many Manchester people will remember a huge ancient building 
at the bottom of old Smithy Door, which also overhung the end of 
Deansgate, as if the drooping pile was mourning over its fallen great- 


226 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

ness, its rich feudal owner having long since passed away, and 
families of lowly lineage become the occupants of the architecture 
of olden times.* In that relic of antiquity I was cradled, to undergo 
the strange vicissitudes of the world, about the year 1811. When 
I neared the seventh year of existence, my affectionate mother be- 
came a widow. Without parish aid or eleemosynary assistance, she 
creditably brought up four children by the exercise of matchless 
industry and a rigid adherence to domestic economy. At eight 
years of age I became a green-coated schoolboy, and remained one 
during three years. The education proved scant indeed. Reading 
was the greatest extent taught free, writing being an extra, demand- 
ing pecuniary remuneration to assist the teacher in augmenting his 
slight income. No history, no arithmetic, no grammar j and, from 
that day to this, no instructor has taught me the commonest rudi- 
ments of those powerful adjuncts to worldly advancement. I picked 
up as I wandered through life, gathered what came in my path, 
stored as prizes, stray bits which the scholar would pass unnoticed, 
as he required no such trifles. At the age of eleven I entered the, 
employment of a paper dealer, in whose service I stayed six or 
seven years, and from whom, unfortunately, I imbibed a strong taste 
for the stage, to the total obliteration of trade ideas. From the date 
I left his honourable employ to the present period, commerce and I 
have not practically met. A trade, however, was suggested for me, 
and that of a printer selected as my future occupation. But a 
flame burned within me which had more powerful incentives than a 
trade. A stage infatuation consumed my every thought. Fond 
imagination already pictured me a theatrical star of considerable 
celebrity. Whilst under the influence of this delirium, ill-fated 
Edmund Kean visited Manchester : I saw him, and the die was 

* A contributor to The Phcenix, a short-lived Manchester magazine, has 
referred to the said comer in a similar strain: — " Who has gazed on the old 
gloomy-looking building at the lower end of Deansgate, entering into Cateaton 
Street, without feelings of antiquarian awe? Three centuries have passed 
away, and left that structure stiU [1828] standing, as a mouldering memento of 
a bygone age. Since its erection it has frequently been repaired and clumsily 
patched ; but still the present edifice in other respects is the same which, in 
the early part of the sixteenth century, was the dwelling of the renowned dis. 
ciple of Esculapius, Dr Simeon Ford. That identical house also, when in its 
pristine grandeur, has often witnessed the joviahties of the redoubtable Sir 
George de CoUyar, the [ninth] Warden of Manchester." 

Smithy Door Bank. 227 

cast — the sock and buskin were my fevered aspirations ; I frequented 
a theatrical house, became a personal friend of stage-heroes, and 
revelled in imaginary greatness. Amongst others who paid court 
to the expounders of the dramatists were clerks, petty cash-keepers, 
and young warehousemen. Midnight orgies became numerous ; no 
' trump ' deserting ' the feast of reason (.?) and the flow of soul,' until 
the shrill cock heralded in the morning. I was often puzzled to 
learn how young men — very young — could grace the counting-house 
without the traces of late hours leading to detection. At length an 
old stager proposed an amateur performance, and the announcement 
was received with fervid enthusiasm. A play was selected, parts 
cast, dresses bought, place engaged, night fixed, and dull Cocker 
abandoned for congenial Shakespeare. I did not form one of the 
embryo actors ; the part I soared to represent being given to, or 
rather paid for, by another, as each part, according to dramatic 
importance, had to pay tribute to the old stager for his professional 
superintendence. My ' vaulting ambition ' could not descend to any 
other part, and I became one of the privileged to witness the repre- 
sentation behind the scenes. The long-wished-for night arrived, 
and the housewas crowded vidth indulgent friends of each aspirant, 
so failure was out of the pale of possibility. The applause equalled 
that elicited by Edmund Kean on another stage. Bitter night that 
for the cheering, imprudent friends ; but bitterer, far bitterer, for the 
semi-actors. Business hours were afterwards intruded upon to have 
day drains with the actors. More amateur performances ensued ; 
expensive nightly revels were continued, and dozens of box-tickets 
taken from professionals to sustain ' the cause.' The riot of guilty 
indulgence soon had an end. Promising young men were dis- 
charged in disgrace from honourable situations of trust ; their 
employers forbearing to prosecute through a kindly feeling towards 
their relatives. Some fled the town in alarm, to join strolling com- 
panies of Thespians under an alias, to lead a weary life of vaga- 
bondising, in perpetual want or woe ; others were placed in the 
felon's dock, to plead to indictments of embezzlement ; and many 
brought down blanched cheeks and hoary heads with sadness to 
the tomb. I stood amazed at the scene of reality passing painfully 
before me. Yet a hopeful spirit cheered me on ; but truth constrains 
me to confess that amateur theatrical representations are viciously 
bad in a mercantile community. They unsettle the mind from 

2 23 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

legitimate pursuits, and distract it with golden visions. Still, 
unaccountable infatuation'! I yearned to fret my hour as a profes- 
sional, and yielded to my thirstful longings. I became a ' regular,' 
but whether the essay proved a hit or a miss I presume not to 
state. I ran the gauntlet in a country theatre, cheeringly enough on 
the stage, but with continued short commons off it; and hunger 
is a sharp thorn, keener than the sharpest practice of the veriest 
law-shark who ever sued poverty." ' 

A little further research, and some friendly corre- 
spondence, will now enable us to add a few particulars 
touching Mr John Easby. The grave of this once 
widely-known writer for the press is situated near the 
centre of Ardwick Green Cemetery, beneath the branches 
of an aged elm-tree. Upon a flat stone the ensuing 
inscription is engraven : — 

"In memory of John Easby, of Manchester, 
who died i8th November 1852, aged 40 years. 
Charles Hindley, son of the above, who died 
Sep' 13th, 1865, aged 26 years." 

Then follows the record of an infant's demise. Mr 
Easby's son was apparently named after the first Mem- 
ber of Parliament for Ashton-under-Lyne. Another son, 
the only survivor of Mr Easby's children, bears the name 
of Richard Cobden, and has spent some portion of his life 
in New Zealand, to which salubrious island he purposes 
one day to return. John Easby died, after a lingering 
illness, at his house in Lower Mosley Street, known as 
"Number Six." At the time of his decease, and during 
many previous years, he was the Manchester Correspon- 
dent of the London Era. "An account of his funeral 
(states one who was present at the closing scene) will be 
found in the Era of the time, giving a list of the public 

Smithy Door Bank. 229 

men who followed his remains to their last resting-place ; 
and however, in the ' sheer force of adverse circumstances, 
he tilted his pen/ his death brings to my mind's eye one 
of the most perfect and peaceful assurances of a Chris- 
tian's hope of a heavenly home." 

The half-forgotten Charity with which John Easby was 
associated is still known to a few citizens as Ann Hinde's. 
The livery worn by the scholars was, as we remember, 
of a yellowish green ; but the juvenile wearers gradually 
disappeared from our streets many years ago ; and as the 
verdant clothing passed quietly from sight, it seemed like- 
wise to vanish from the public memory. The nature of 
Mrs Hinde's charitable bequest can be gathered from 
the inscription on her neat marble monument within the 
Cathedral : — 

" Sacred to the memory of Mrs Ann Hinde, 
widow of the Rev. John Hinde, formerly- 
Fellow of this Church. She lived a pattern 
of exemplary piety, and the present trustees 
have erected this monument as a grateful 
remembrance of her distinguished charity to 
the poor of Manchester and Stretford by the 
establishment of the Green Gown School, for 
the clothing and educating of 24 poor children, 
which, by good management and a concur- 
rence of fortunate circumstances, are, in the 
year 1788, increased to the number of 50. 
She died in the year 1724, aged 70." 

Notwithstanding this gratifying statement, which pro- 
mised a long-lived friendly rival to good Humphrey's 
Foundation, the promise has not been realised to the full 
extent. The Manchester moiety of Mrs Hinde's scholars, 

230 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

having no building of their own, were accommodated in 
the school belonging to St Mary's Church, Parsonage, 
where they prospered to the early years of the present 
century, and lingered to a much later period. One cause 
of their decadence in Manchester may be traced, we 
think, to the precarious tenure of the lodger franchise. 
Had the generous lady's gift been supplemented by a 
kindred bequest, and the scholars located in an historic 
hall of their own — say Hulme, or Ordsall, or Garratt — 
their Foundation might be flourishing to-day. The Green 
boy, in his interesting retreat, might be as tangible as 
the Blue boy. At Stretford, we believe, a vestige of the 
Charity is still remaining (by amalgamation with the 
National School), less livery being worn, and of a darker 
hue than formerly. 

An inscription on the south'side of St Mary's Church- 
yard, Parsonage, forms an interesting link in the history 
of the Green-Gowns : — 

" Martha, wife of Richard Hartley, died 
March the 3rd, 1 78 1, aged 70 : first School- 
mistress of St Mary's Charity. Richard 
Hartley, died November 19, 1786, aged 81 
years : first Schoolmaster of St Mary's 

This Charity, while gradually passing from public observa- 
tion in Manchester, has been maintained with more vigour 
at Stretford, which place has become its stronghold. Its 
watchful guardian, or "village Hampden," during many 
years, was the late Rev. Joseph Clarke, the curate in 
charge (and afterwards rector), who thus observes in his 

Smithy Door Bank. 231 

diary: — "May 12, 1847. — Till this year the boys have 
always worn green swallow-tailed coats and leathern 
breeches. To say nothing of the absurdity of thus 
dressing boys of eight to twelve years of age, the incon- 
venience to the little fellows was great, especially in wet 
weather, inasmuch as they could not at times sit down 
or bend." 

In Mr Clarke's "Sickbed Address to his JBeloved 
Parishioners," printed in October 1859, shortly before 
the pastor's decease, he expressed an earnest desire 
that a memorial window should be placed in Stretford 
Church in grateful remembrance of Mrs Hinde; "to 
whom, during the last hundred years, most of the poor 
inhabitants [of the village] have been indebted for all 
the education they ever received." This graceful tribute 
has not yet been paid ; the debt of gratitude, so long 
overdue, is still owing by the public. Let us hope the 
worthy parishioners, or others, may yet see their way clear 
in this direction, if there be a window to spare suitable for 
the purpose. And if through such memorial window — 

" The slanting rays of Sabbath light 
Shine o'er the donors' pews,"- — ■ 

could the donors receive a sweeter return for their muni- 
ficence? We glean from the Parliamentary report on 
charities that " on Wednesday preceding Ascension Day, 
a meeting of Mrs Hinde's trustees is held at Stretford, the 
accounts audited, the children examined, and vacancies 
filled up. All the children attend \i.e., the Manchester 
children are brought to Stretford], and are furnished with 
two meals. A sermon is preached in Stretford Church." 

232 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 















In 1869 the value of the school property was officially 
stated to be : — 

New do., 

Total dividends — 

Total former income. 

This account of the Green-Coat School, or rather scho- 
lars, may be suitably concluded with a few observations 
by Mr David Kelly, late churchwarden of Stretford, who 
has taken an interest in the' subject, and to whom we are 
indebted for some useful facts. " The boys wore the ordi- 
nary chimney-pot hat without nap. The hat worn by the 
girls was something like a cardinal's hat, but not quite so 
broad in the brim. It was of hard felt, and light green in 
colour. The girls wore a large white tippet reaching to 
the waist. [The costume, it will be understood, has been 
materially modified since 1847.] -A-t the present time 
there are thirty-five children educated in Manchester [at 
St John's School, Gartside Street], twelve of whom — six 
boys and six girls — are clothed. In Stretford thirty-one 
are educated, of which number five boys and five girls are 
clothed." At the coronation of George the Fourth, these 
children (headed by their master and mistress) were con- 
spicuous in the great procession, the spectators being highly 
amused with their span-new verdure. The green bonnets 
of the girls were relieved for the occasion with mazarine 
blue ribbons. 

Sniitky Door Bank. 233 

In a marriage settlement, dated 1714, reference is made 
to "all that burgage or tenement being near a certain 
street called Smithy Door Bank, and all those two gardens 
lying on the back of the said messuage, leading down to 
the river Irwell." Afterwards the property in question 
passed to Mr Robert Thyer, librarian of Chetham's College, 
as the dower of Silence, his wife. This scholar is still 
favourably remembered. 'Y.\\.t Mercury, at the date of his 
demise, was highly eulogistic, proclaiming him an honour to 
this town, where he was born and educated. Further par- 
ticulars respecting him may be read in the " Admission 
Register of the Manchester School," edited by the Rev. 
Jeremiah Finch Smith. A short enigmatical poem of Mr 
Thyer's might be here introduced as a sample of his rhym- 
ing quality, but we must forbear, lest the current chapter 
would be thought somewhat overburdened with extract 
matter. A flat stone within the Cathedral contains the 
last few words of his story : — 

"Robert Thyer, died October 27, 1781, 
aged 72. Silence, his wife, died May 4, 
1753, aged 38." 

The foot of Smithy Door Bank rested upon the Old 
Bridge, and so terminated the line of Manchester streets 
in this direction. Here also may terminate our disserta- 
tion ; for the modern Victoi-ia is no more a Bridge of Sighs 
whereon to ruminate, than are we a wayward Byron to 
conjure forth a long array of interesting shadows. Albeit 
a prison did once, sternly and truly, greet the passenger 
on the one hand, no palace ever charmed him on the other, 
as at Venice ; nor do graceful gondolas glide on the Irwell 
beneath. The rowers hereabout are indeed songless ; 

234 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

listen as we may, our ears catch not the melody of trouba- 
dour, the nearest resemblance being the Cathedral chimes. 
Yet it must be conceded that, half a century ago, we 
narrowly escaped a succession of elegant vessels. A navi- 
gable ship canal from the Irish Sea direct to this town 
was projected, sundry witty squibs hailing the advent of 
the grand idea. The press of Liverpool and Manchester 
entered upon a harmless paper war, in which contest, if 
not overpowered, we certainly were outnumbered, by the 
Livers, In prose, they congratulated us on the quantity 
of vessels lying at anchor at Kersal Moor Dry Dock, in 
the port of Manchester, and bound for Utopia ; in verse, 
they hoped the lords of the loom, while enjoying their own 
champagne, would at least leave to Liverpool its port. 
But humour apart, and free-ranging fancy put aside, some 
considerable time must elapse, we opine, before our chief 
civic dignitary will sail in a gilded barge, and ofJficially 
marry the sea at Bootle Landmarks, 

The prison to which we have referred, so long situated 
upon and within Salford Bridge,* would have proved 
a puzzle to Jack Sheppard, the daring scapegrace who 
has left his name to other times, linked with one virtue 
— ^but we forget the virtue in the crimes. Had he here 
leaped through the wall, he would have alighted in the 
river, and possibly be found drowned by Jonathan Wild 
or some other tipstaff. To the inmates of that dungeon 
the water was a greater terror than the confinement, 
and with reason, A sudden rising of the Irwell during 

* An interesting view of this bridge and prison is preserved in Buck's 
Sottth-West Prospect, ante, page 207. 

Smithy Door Bank, 235 

the unguarded night would immerse or overwhelm them. 
On one occasion at the least (see Aston's " Metrical 
Records"), when the keeper tardily unlocked the door, 
he discovered that the great Liberator had entered the 
dungeon before him, setting the captive free. Changing 
from prisoners to prayers, — from sinners to saints, — it 
was at this spot the Royalists opened their siege and the 
Puritans rushed from their pews to the conflict. Even 
in the church the worshippers forgot the Peacemaker's in- 
junction — "If thine enemy smite thee on one cheek, turn the 
other," — seizing, in preference, any weapon that came first 
to hand for the purpose of returning blow for blow. In 
this dereliction of religious duty perchance our combative 
forefathers may stand excused, so long as self-preserva- 
tion remains the primal law of nature, and while numerals 
(ever commencing with number one) form the chief study 
of a mercantile community. In that melee an inquisitive 
boy was shot while sitting upon a stump close to our 
present standpoint. Much safer remaining here now. 
That fated boy on the fatal stump reminds us of other 
boys and other upright timbers. Our elders — but not 
our juveniles — ^will remember the time when Manchester 
was a town of stumps — one being affixed securely to each, 
or nearly each, street corner. Never could we divine the 
purpose of those wooden pillars, and ultimately assumed 
that they were connected in some mysterious way with 
the riddle of the Sphynx. But boys have a genius for 
materialising the visions of men, and we found permanent 
use and practical purpose for those perpendiculars. We 
rarely passed them, singly or in troops, without overleap- 
ing their highnesses, or attempting that gymnastic feat. 

236 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

They constituted the best imaginable " Craddies." One 
naorning we awoke (again in the domain of Byron) and 
missed the stumps. They had not decayed gradually, in 
the natural ordination of timber or of men. No fear of 
latent dry-rot in the wet town of Manchester. So why 
had they suddenly vanished, and where .■• Only one 
solution presented itself to our unformed mind. Being 
a compact body, doubtless they formed a union, and had 
struck to remedy some real or imaginary grievance, — 
probably for greater elevation and less leaping: just as 
the workers of our own era strike for more wages and 
fewer working hours. Nothing beats your two-edged sword 
when rushing headlong into battle, but it possesses the 
dangerous tendency of cutting both ways. 

As the shadows of the olden time, accompanied by 
those of our own youth, disappear from the foot of Smithy 
Door Bank, a more recent scene arises. 

Amongst the latest levellings for improvement pur- 
poses in this city was the popular, tavern adjoining 
the Victoria Bridge, and built upon the rugged rock, 
slightly overhanging the Irwell. At once a vault, a 
refreshment-room, a boathouse, and a singing gallery, 
no wonder it attracted incessant crowds of the matter-of- 
fact sons and daughters of John Bull, — a family so famous 
for its love of eating and drinking and recreation. The 
usual visitors to the Trafford Arms were " positive " 
philosophers, though unconscious of the existence of 
Comte, — admirers of " muscular " Christianity, and daily 
practising its virtues, without the aid of the Rev. Charles 
Kingsley or Mr Thomas Hughes. Albeit they were, as 
Mr Charles Phillips wrote upon one of his title-pages, 

Smithy Door Bank. 237 

" All Low People There," it is curious to note how much, 
in some important particulars, they resembled their betters. 
When wearied by labour or ennui — (how they would 
have laughed at that alien word and at the Frenchman 
pronouncing it !) — they invariably sought the amusement 
that most amused them ; and when, as on one painful 
occasion, while eagerly pursuing their pleasures in this 
saloon, they were suddenly confronted by Death, and 
slain and piled by his mysterious hand, the mourning 
was as deep in the cottage homes as it could have been 
in the stateliest halls. The date of that disaster was 
Friday, July 31, 1868. At a benefit concert — ("Don't 
forget this benefit ! " was printed in the bills of the day) 
— a false alarm of fire was raised, and a panic ensued, in 
which twenty-three persons were fatally crushed in their 
frantic efforts to escape from the hall, eleven others being 
injured. The sufferers were chiefly boys and girls. The 
street ballad-singer, — ^the laureate of the million, — warbled 
his "Lamentation" in due course to crowds of sympathising 
listeners, until, at length, the interest faded, and they turned 
to mourn over the next great sorrow. This music-room 
was best known to the multitude by its aliases, all ab- 
breviated in the true Lancashire fashion. Who has not 
heard of " Ben Lang's," or " Th' Trafford," or " Th' Vic .? " 
even royalty being nowadays shorn of its fair dimen- 
sions. Within those walls appeared, during many years, a 
succession of surprises for the people. " Matchless sing- 
ers 1 " " Inimitable dancers ! " " Champion pedestrians ! " 
" Belted bruisers ! " and so forth, to the utter exclusion 
of the golden mean — the happy medium. Anciently, in 
the " dim morning twilight of time," the world was content 

238 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

with seven or eight wonders, sparsely distributed over the 
globe; but the Trafiford Arms could boast of a new 
wonder every week, announced in coloured programmes, 
which afforded a treat to the lovers of superlatives and 
notes of admiration. 



" As in a mirror, vanished years 

This well-known view is raising ; 
With lightning glow the past appears, 

As thoughtful I am gazing. 
Be fresh each leaf, be strong each form. 

No biting winds impair them ; 

And may the red wing of the storm 

Pass ever by and spare them." 


CROSSING the Old Bridge, with the South- West Pro- 
spect expanded before us as a guide, we will now 
follow its direction along the verdant, tree-decked bank 
of the Irwell, upon the Salford side. Apart from the 
sylva of the scene, and exclusive of the unpolluted river, 
the most prominent object pictured in our pathway is 
the boathouse, "in w"'' is a curious Bath." Of this curi- 
osity we cannot trace the remote origin, but a few last- 
century notes, showing its peculiarities, may be thought 
worthy of revival. The earliest allusion, bearing date 
1747-48, was printed in Whitworth's Mancliester Maga- 
zine, wherein are set forth for sale " Three houses opposite 
the Spaw Stile, or Bath Stile, in Salford." After an in- 
- terval of forty years, we meet with the following notice 
in Harrop : — " 1793, March. — To be sold, the Bath Inn 

240 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

in Salford, situate on the bank of the river Irwell, near 
the new stone bridge [New Bailey Bridge], and near the 
intended junction of the Bolton and Bury Canal with the 
said river. There is also a celebrated Cold Bath, well 
frequented, and supplied with spring-water, in a con- 
venient part of the house." The next announcement 
appeared on the 5th of July 1796: — "Public Cold Bath, 
at the Lying-in Hospital, Stanley Street, New Bailey 
Street, Salford. The ancient cold bath called the Spaw, 
so well-known for its coldness, and the plentiful supply 
of spring-water which is constantly running through it, 
is now fitted up for the use of the public. Terms of 
bathing, sixpence per time, or ten shillings and sixpence 
per quarter ; towels included." This advertisement was 
partly repeated in the Mercury three years later. At 
what date the antique boathouse disappeared, or whether 
the spring contained therein be yet flowing, deponent 
knoweth not. The bath, long ago fallen out of public use, 
is now but faintly remembered ; yet Spaw Street retains 
the name, while marking the site where it flourished^ 

It appears by a copy of the Salford charter — translated 
by Mr Thomas Peet, and printed in 1824 for private 
circulation among the ofiicials of the town — that the 
said charter was granted in 1231 by Ranulph, Earl of 
Chester and Lincoln. Therein all men present and to 
come are greeted, and told that every burgess shall have 
one acre for his burgage — which fact clearly points out 
the golden era described by the poet Goldsmith, though 
commonly supposed to be mythical — "when every rood 
of ground maintained its man." Other items of the 
charter decree all just debts to be paid, and forbid 

Over Salford Bridge. 241 

any one to smite his neighbour in anger. Bread made 
to sell is to be baked in the Earl's oven by reasonable 
custom ; " and if," writes Ranulph, in continuation, " I 
shall have a mill there, the burgesses shall grind at my 
mill to the twentieth vessel." Free pasture is given in 
the woods and plains situated within the borough, and 
acquittance of poundage, with permission to reasonably 
take within the said wood " all things necessary to build 
withal and to burn." Further, it is decreed that when 
a burgess "departeth this life, his wife shall abide in the 
house with the heir, and there have necessaries as long 
as she shall remain a widow; and when again married, 
she shall depart freely without dower, and the heir as 
lord shall remain in the house." From the said heir all 
the acknowledgment required by Earl Ranulph consisted 
of a sword, a bow, and a spear. 

For the better observance of our individual remini- 
scences, it is now desirable to lay aside the public 
charter, and to bridge the gulf of six hundred vanished 
years, leaving the spears and good yew-bows of the 
Middle Ages, with the potent Ranulphs who guided 
them, to their dreamless rest and natural oblivion. 

It may not be amiss to indulge for a brief space in 
a few early recollections of a familiar locality that has 
gradually become metamorphosed in its appearance and 
character ; some of which metamorphoses, if not noted 
here, may soon pass from remembrance, and find no other 

Born in Paradise Vale, at the foot of Green Bank, near 

Broughton Bridge, and dating our existence from the close 

of the sixteenth year of the present century — the first 


242 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

entire year of peace after an age of warfare — we have 
seen more than the usual amount of change come over 
our birthplace. In some situations Time seems to slumber 
with folded wings, while in others he works his marvels 
with amazing alacrity. The small town, with its twenty 
thousand inhabitants (in 1801 it possessed scarcely half of 
that number), has grown into a borough of importance, 
containing a population exceeding one hundred and 
twenty-four thousand souls, and is duly represented both 
in Council and in Parliament. Two newspapers have 
also been added to its modern blessings, each journal 
guarding its moiety of the inhabitants. Albeit strongly 
contrasted in partisan colours, they manage to run their 
weekly stages as neighbours, if not as friends. A little 
viciousness of temper when they chance to "foul" (as 
the rowers say), or restiveness in the political traces, may 
be expected and excused. Yet, withal, Salford refuses 
to support a theatre, a market, or good book-marts of 
its own, preferring to cross the numerous bridges into 
Manchester, there suiting its taste, and leaving its money 
with its overgrown neighbour. " Much shall have more," 
saith the proverb ; and ever therein lies some foundation 
of truth. 

Our eariiest impressions of Salford embrace a cluster 
of gardens adjacent to our home ; beyond these appeared 
meadow land, which in turn was bounded by the river 
as it flowed brightly through an abundance of marginal 
flowers. Passing to the opposite side of Broughton Road, 
we arrive at Shaw's Brow (or Shay Brows, as the spot 
was popularly called). This was a spacious playground— 
a sort of unenclosed common — where the juvenile Waltons 

Over Sal ford Bridge. 243 

and Cottons of the neighbourhood angled for jacksharps 
with thread and worm, indulged freely in the healthful 
recreation of chasing the " sylph of silver, sylph of gold," 
or varied such sports with more boisterous amusement. 
The cluster of gardens met their fate soon after we had 
formed their acquaintance, for one night the storm-king, 
while in a convivial humour, played at nine-pins with the 
gates, and rails,, and young trees. Daylight revealed a 
promiscuous heap of ruin, which no one cared to restore. 
To increase this disaster, the river had overflowed its 
banks, covering the meadows almost to our cottage door. 
This was an event of frequent occurrence, and, though 
reminding one of the overflowings of the Nile, the de- 
posits of the Irwell were neither so rich nor so desirable 
as those of the Egyptian river. No such wild pranks are 
permitted to the Irwell now : its margins are higher 
and less easily surmounted ; utilitarians have confined it 
with stones, and embanked it with earth ; and henceforth, 
at that portion of its winding course, it is expected to 
ilow as gently as Deva, and move as circumspectly as 
the up-grown child who once frolicked among its mar- 
ginal flowers. But sometimes the river chafes under 
these restraints, fretting unsafely within its narrowed 

Of such overflowings extensive uninterrupted views were 
gained by ascending the long terrace of "Cambell's Flags," 
surmounting the well-known ropery. This ropery at Para- 
dise Vale is still in existence — an evergreen divested of all 
its verdant surroundings. 

Glancing at Springfield Lane, we may remark that on 
one side the hedgerows and meadows stretched from the 

244 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Irwell to the workhouse ; on the other side, from the river 
to Sandy Wells. Nothing intervened save two or three 
isolated dwellings, and one or two wooden sheds stand- 
ing quaintly by the wayside. How densely that neigh- 
bourhood has since become packed with dwellings and 
dwellers we need not stay to calculate : suffice it that 
the hungriest feaster upon bricks and mortar may there 
satiate his appetite. 

With Springfield Lane Mr John Collier and his print- 
works are closely allied. He was in business at this spot, 
as dyer and printer, previous to 1794, and here remained 
during three decades and upwards. Probably he suc- 
ceeded his father or grandfather, whose demise is thus 
worded in the Collegiate register : — " 1775, Feb. 25. — 
Thomas Collier, of Salford, dyer," From Thomas's 
gravestone, in St Mary's Churchyard, Parsonage, we 
gather that he died at the age of fifty-eight, and that 
the material he coloured was linen. Evidently, in the art 
of dyeing, the Colliers were amongst the Salford pioneers, 
albeit an older notice is furnished by an inscription in 
the Manchester Cathedral Yard : — " Here resteth the bodie 
of Daniel Sutton, of Salford, linen dyer. Was buried the 
1 0th day of April 1699." 

Mr John Collier's private pond, occupying the space 
between his residence and the works, abounded with 
choice fish of many hues. They seemed to know they 
were holiday fish, often coming, leaping and sportive, 
above the surface. To watch their bright colours glisten 
in the sunbeams was a feast for our young eyes. Of 
course, as we gazed, our juvenility knew nothing of Venus 
rising from the sea, or floating in her fairy shell ; but her 

Over Sal ford Bridge. 245 

zephyrs were fanning us none the less, and the hours 
were scarcely more blissful at Cythera. Our memory 
next reverts to Mr Collier's imposing funeral procession, 
as it ranged from Spring Field to near the top of the 
lane, the occurrence dating about the year 1825. With 
this gentleman originated Collier Street, adjoining the 
first Salford Poorhouse. The printworks, with the addi- 
tion of a warehouse in Manchester, were conducted by 
his family until 1840, or thereabouts, when they passed 
into other hands, 

Broster Street, approaching Broughton Bridge, derived 
its name from Mr Charles Broster, a charitable individual, 
who bequeathed one hundred pounds, "one half thereof 
to be distributed in coals among poor widows and house- 
keepers of the township not receiving alms, and the other 
half to be applied in clothing poor children, and providing 
each with a Church of England Catechism." A glance 
at the registers shows that Charles Broster, "gentleman, 
of Salford," was married, by license, at the Manchester 
Cathedral in 1682, and was there interred in the year 
1700. In the interim, two of his daughters were baptized 
and his wife buried. There is a tablet erected in Trinity 
Chapel, Salford, in remembrance of Mr Broster and other 

BrearcUffe's Buildings, Gravel Lane, long preserved the 
name, though scarcely the memory, of a benevolent lady, 
Sarah Brearcliffe. She left by her will, dated 1803, three 
thousand pounds for the maintenance or relief of fourteen 
decayed housekeepers of Manchester or Salford. This 
charity is, we believe, still in active operation. 

A curious item appeared in the Mercury for 14th April 

246 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

1789:— "To be let for a term of years, two meadows 
and one pasture field, situate near Old Grindrod, in 
Salford." John Grindred, as may be remembered, was 
gibbeted upon Pendleton Moor (now Cross Lane), in the 
year 1759 ; and his name, apparently, was given to some 
ground thereabouts. 

As may be anticipated from the rapid increase of inha- 
bitants, houses have displaced the verdure in all direc- 
tions, and the pellucid character of the river has been 
destroyed by chemical refuse. Although the old localities 
still retain their favourite names— names suggestive of 
"Flora and the countrie green" — they form so odd an 
amalgamation with the new streets to which they are 
wedded, that the contrast raises our mirth along with our 
melancholy. Wheat Hill has not an ear of corn to bless 
itself withal; Spring Field has lost every trace of the 
vernal season ; Garden Lane, Posy Street, Blossom Street, 
and the Old Orchard lead to anything rather than fruit 
and flowers. Even Paradise and Paradise Hill are shorn 
of their primeval attractions ; and as to the Green Gate 
that once guarded the Salford pastures — where shall we 
look for that .' Our taste in this matter is confessedly 
behind the age and fashion. We have no more sympathy 
with new factories than Wordsworth showed for new 
railways, and would at .any time rather see flowery fields 
than the tallest chimneys that can be raised upon them. 

Our home was situated in the vicinity of the old Cockpit, 
a noted rendezvous for the sporting characters of the time, 
where the game birds of the twelfth Earl of Derby and 
Mr Bold Hoghton, Whitsuntide after Whitsuntide, com- 
peted for the sanguinary honours of the pit, and where, 

Over Salford Bridge. 247 

collectively, the gentlemen of Lancashire and the neigh- 
bouring counties came to settle their matches touching 
mains and bye-battles. Here was seen in all its glory 
the celebrated Derby main-bag, with its rich lace and its 
needle-embroidered coat of arms, a sight which was alone 
worth the five shiUings admission fee — so, at least, writes 
" The Druid," a trustworthy authority On sporting topics. 
Many a slain warrior, warm in his gory plumage, did our 
mother purchase at the Salford pit. Cock-fighting was 
discontinued here in March 1851, at which date the pro- 
prietor was fined five pounds, with the alternative of two 
months' imprisonment, for allowing a main to be fought 
on his premises, contrary to the Act of Parliament passed 
in 1835. Shortly afterwards, the building, being rendered 
useless, was taken down. It was situated at the rear of 
the Bridge Inn, Paradise. 

The slain warriors just referred to were bought by our 
mother in the vain hope of renewing our father's declining 
strength. Clearly can we picture him leaning on his 
polished oaken staff, to watch some adventurous spirit ride 
a velocipede, or dandy-charger, at full force over the then 
new iron bridge into Strangeways ; or, if it chanced to be 
holiday time, he would rest on the steps of the Salford 
Cross and Court House, and amuse himself with a dis- 
tant view of the flying-boats and merry-go-rounds, as 
they were exercised on the ancient' fair ground at Stany- 
hurst. While thus gazing at surrounding objects, with the 
peculiar' sensitiveness engendered by long sickness, his 
thoughts were little to be coveted. A working man, 
whose health is his sole estate, has need of all his philo- 
sophy when his mental view is bounded by an early grave 

248 Memorials 0/ Manchester Streets. 

and a group of helpless children. The said Cross and 
Court House, which stood on the open space of ground at 
the top of Greengate, nearly opposite the end of Gravel 
Lane, were taken down in the summer of 1824. At Stany- 
hurst the land is no longer vacant, many years having 
elapsed since it was used for the purposes of a folly fair. 
The present generation of pleasure-seekers must look else- 
where for the player's half-brother — the showman. 

Salford Cross was the scene of tumultuous rejoicing in 
July 1 82 1, when the coronation of George the Fourth 
was celebrated with exceeding magnificence throughout 
Manchester and Salford. Being one of the appointed 
stations for the roasting and distribution of oxen and 
sheep, supplemented by loaves of bread and barrels of 
strong beer, a succession of lively incidents occurred 
during the day, culminating, at night, in the most bois- 
terous merriment. About five o'clock in the evening, 
when the grand procession of trades, schools, and other 
associated bodies, numbering forty thousand persons, 
had terminated, the distribution of meat and drink to 
the populace commenced. The scenes that ensued, at 
Salford Cross and other stations, are described by the 
reporters of the period as rudely Hogarthian, the waste 
of food and liquor being much greater than the enjoy- 
ment thereof. 

The earliest historical notice we meet touching Salford 
Cross takes date from the origin of Methodism in this 
town. John Wesley, preaching on the steps of the 
Cross, received no kindly welcome from the bystanders. 
In language quaintly descriptive we are informed that 
one of the "unbroken spirits" around him, more unruly 

Over Salford Bridge. 249 

than the rest, threatened to bring out the engine and 
play it upon the zealous itinerant preacher. " I walked," 
observes Mr Wesley in his "Journal," dated May 1747, 
"straight to Salford Cross. A numberless crowd of 
people partly ran before, partly followed after me. I 
thought it best not to sing, but looking round, asked 
abruptly, 'Why do you look as if you had never seen 
me before? Many of you have seen me in the neigh- 
bouring church, both preaching and' administering the 
sacrament.' I then began. ... As I was drawing to a 
conclusion, a big man thrust in, with three or four more, 
and bade them bring out the engine. Our friends desired 
me to remove into a yard just by, which I did, and con- 
cluded in peace." 

Being by birth a " bird of Paradise," we may venture 
to introduce two other birds of similar plumage. Mr 
Warwick Brookes, whose fame has latterly extended 
beyond the provinces, first saw the " light of the world " 
near to that favoured region styled Paradise, being born 
in Birtles' Square, Greengate, anno domini 1806. At an 
early age he entered the printworks of Mr John Barge, 
near Broughton Bridge. Few sounds were more familiar 
in our boyish ears than " Barge's Printworks," — situated 
opposite to the ancient ford, on the Broughton bank of the 
Irwell. Fortunately for young Warwick, his precocious 
talent for drawing was observed by the original proprie- 
tor of that establishment, who at once caused him to be 
removed to the designers' department, thus placing him 
on the right path — a judicious act, that is still gratefully 

One other local artist, Mr William Morton, painter and 

250 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

engraver, was born in that celestial-terrestrial portion 
of Salford, in the year of grace 1825. Long ere the 
names and works of artists or of authors had become 
familiar things to us, we formed a friendly compact with 
this student of the fine arts. We use the word " student '' 
advisedly, because it is a rule with Mr Morton that a 
painter must be ever a student — ever striving, though 
vainly, to attain the perfection of nature. The views and 
portraits interspersed through many published volumes, or 
displayed at sundry exhibitions, bear witness to the poetic 
feeling, the conscientious refinement, which have guided his 
pencil and graver. 

These dates and points of biography are given with the 
more care and exactness in order that they may serve 
to show our natural claims to the said plots of Paradise, 
whenever the promised Republican time may arrive for 
partitioning the rich acres of England into equal shares ! 
For such realisation of our birthrights, we fear we must 
wait until the Peris revisit the earth, or until we, in our 
silent turn, take wing to their far-away and mysterious 

Various derivations of .the word Salford have been 
vaguely mooted in print ; but we prefer giving a more 
romantic version, conveyed to us by tradition, which 
asserts that a notable matron resided on the spot while 
it was yet nameless and insignificant ; that she continued 
to live here to a green old age, dispensing blessings to 
the best of her ability ; and that, when she died, her neigh- 
bours testified their gratitude by endowing their cluster of 
homesteads with the name of their favourite gossip — Sai. 

Over Salford Bridge. 251 

In connection with Salford, and also with the blos- 
soming season of [childhood, a brief episode — a story of 
" Cherry ripe " — may be thought worthy of a passing 
record. One morning, shortly after the premature decease 
of our father, we were proceeding on an errand for our 
mother, with a half-crown wrapped for security in brown 
paper, and deposited in our pocket, when we encountered 
a man with a wheelbarrow, crying " Cherry ripe ! " A 
group of children were, of course, congregated around 
the tempting ware, and we, without the least hesitation, 
added one to their number. Although this junction 
happened early in the day, we accompanied him, faith- 
fully as his own shadow, until nightfall. Wherever he 
went we followed, and whenever he stopped to rest or to 
sell we stayed also. The itinerant fruiterer was a man 
of wonderful patience and forbearance — a genuine Job. 
" Do, children, go home ; you'll get lost," or " Keep your 
hands off the barrow-sides," were the only indications 
of complaint or remonstrance which he suffered to escape 
him, and even these were thrown away, for we stuck, like 
cobblers, to the last. Occasionally some one of the little 
wanderers would release his hold of the barrow, and stand 
(young philosopher as he was) meditating whether it were 
best to proceed or return. The doubtful question would 
eventually be set at rest by the barrow suddenly turning 
a corner and thereby vanishing from his sight. Then 
would he take a last lingering look — and it was truly a 
longing look — towards the departed cherries, and finally 
saunter, with sidelong gait, in search of his home and his 
mother. Let us now turn the corner of the street, take a 
few hasty steps, and here we are once more beside the 

252 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

enchanted trundler. Happy fellow! thought we in our 
simplicity, to possess such a store of the luxuries of life 
— such a perfect Eldorado in a wheelbarrow! Had the 
wealth of Croesus been showered upon us, how gladly 
would we have exchanged our lot with the poor fruit- 
hawker. We had then but a faint idea of the value of 
gold ; its glitter was pleasing for a moment to the eye, 
but we could receive from it no substantial enjoyment. 
Far different was our estimate of the pedlar's treasures ; 
there was the intrinsic beauty that surpassed show — the 
charms not only to be seen, but felt. We knew they were 
sweet, rich, juicy ; and we felt sure that one glorious feast 
of those luscious cherries must be the climax of human 
felicity. "It were no figure of speech to say," as the 
learned Serjeant Buzfuz expressed himself, that our 
mouths moistened on that trying occasion. Alas ! the 
eye was our only fea^ter. Fancy and the thin air 
formed the extent of our regaling. Night came at length, 
and relieved us from further suspense ; nevertheless, our 
features fell, like barometers in rainy weather, as the last 
pound of cherries disappeared from the barrow, and the 
price jingled in the pedlar's pocket. We were, indeed, 
knights of the rueful countenance. The charm being now 
broken, we awoke to a true sense of our situation. 
Hungry and tired, we had angry guardians to encounter 
at the close of our return journey. The direful rod rose 
vividly before us. To find this vision realised was .the 
probable fate of each truant; and our own tribulation 
was much increased when we examined the tiny pocket 
wherein our mother's half-crown had been deposited, and 
missed the coin, paper and all ! How or whither it had 

Over Salford Bridge. 253 

vanished we knew not, nor has the mystery been since 

The opinions of writers respecting the opening stages 
of life's journey are various and conflicting ; the majority 
assert that childhood is all sunshine and happiness, while 
the opposition contend that it is an era of helpless suffer- 
ing. Such opinions are all warranted by contrast of for- 
tune or by individual circumstances. Those heirs to good 
luck who have found their playgrounds unlimited, and 
their butterflies without stint— their flowers springing at 
the homestead, and their every want anticipated by affec- 
tion — ^will naturally sigh for a renewal of " the old time ; " 
but the workhouse orphan and the drunkard's child, who 
have no one to bring them comfort, and who cannot aid 
themselves, will rejoice with equal reason when their help- 
less days have been long enough past. 

These juvenile reminiscences of Salford may be fittingly 
brought to a close by a poem which we penned many 
years ago, suggested by the common wilding flowers : — 


Bloom on, ye daystars of the plain. 

While mfant hearts beat high ; 
Bloom sweet through sultry summer's reign, 

Bloom on, and never die ! 
Langsyne, amid your beauties wild, 
My mother led me forth, a child. 
When light curls waved above the brow 
That care has lined and shadowed now. 
How bright her eyes with bosom glee 
While gazing in her pride on me. 
When heaven bestowed its blissful hours 
And Joy first found me culling flowers ! 

254 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

She watched me with a mother's care, 

In scenes of earth almost divine, 
And breathed a mute yet fervent prayer 
The daisy's fate might aye be mine — 
Beneath a stainless sky to live, 
While earth her genial hours could give. 
I culled the flower with thoughtless glee, 
Her prayers would fain have linked with me, 
And placed it near her, death-allied. 
" Emblem of life," she faintly sighed, 
" How brief thy date, though bright thy bloom, 
How soon the young may seek the tomb ! " 
And grief stole o'er her gentle breast 
(As evening shadows gloam the west), 
To think her son might leave her side, 
And perish in his early pride. 
'Twas thus my mother, sainted soul ! 
Erst mused o'er Fate's mysterious scroll, 
And wondered what it stored for me ; 
Whilst I, amid my daystars free, 
As little recked of woe or weal. 
As little as the flowers could feel. 
Pride of my childhood, youth, and age. 
In Nature's book the fairest page. 
Bloom on, for ever gem the sod — 
The child's inheritance from God ! 

Sweet flowers that crown my favourite lea. 
Though aye from thought and care ye're free, 
How much deep thought ye yield to me ! 
Once more I strayed, when years had flown, 
To muse above your charms alone ; 
Gay summer laughed o'er moor and glen 
And all seemed young and blythe as when 
I frohcked 'neath my mother's ken : 
No more I prized your bloom or breath. 
Wee life-buds in the realms of death. 
But blessed the pure, lone watch ye gave 
Mute guardians of my mother's grave ! 

Over Salford Bridge. 255 

When shall the tongue, great God, reveal 
All that the soul is forced to feel — 
The blighted joy, the hope o'erthrown, 
That must be felt or ne'er be known ? 
'Twere vain to say my heart w^as moved, 
My words were hushed, my pride reproved ; 
For who hath Joielt at Death's cold shrine 
Nor learned the grief that then was mine ? 
I plucked one gem the green earth bore, 
But gladness wooed not as of yore ; 
For youth had crept o'er childhood's prime, 
And doubts and fears are linked with time. 
I marked yon heaven, o'erarching all. 
Where angel feet so lightly fall, 
And pondered o'er her destiny ; 
While she, beneath my daystars free. 
As little recked of woe or weal. 
As little as the flowers could feel. 
In Flora's train, when sunbeams fall. 
What wealth of charms springs forth for all ! 
But none like thee entrance mine eye, 
Or conjure back loved scenes gone by. 
Or o'er my heart exert such power — 
" Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower." 
Pride of my childhood, youth, and age, 
In Nature's book the fairest page. 
Bloom on, for ever gem the sod — 
The child's inheritance from God ! 

When the formal historian of Salford shall arise in the 
future, this retrospective chapter anent its vanished gar- 
dens and obliterated green fields may serve as a contrast 
and a relief to' the heavier pages, — commercial, statistical, 
or otherwise. 


ST Ann's square and its silent inmates. 

" Then shall the pilgrim feet find rest, 
Peace softly soothe the careworn breast, 
The dangerous race be safely run, 
The fadeless crown securely won ; 
No more by strong temptation tried, 
I shall — I shall be satisfied." 

Rev. William Gaskell. 

T T T^E are not about to enter St Ann's Square by the 
' • broad, easy thoroughfare known as Exchange 
Street, where the new and noble Exchange elates the way- 
farer on the one hand, while upon the other he is attracted 
by gold and silver ornaments, the illustrated windows of 
the repository of arts, and anon by chaste and costly 
articles of verfu. Any person is at liberty to enter the 
square by this route, gazing his fill at the rarities dis- 
played. Our entrance shall be made by a narrower inlet, 
little known to the public of to-day. Lying before us are 
two primitive last-century views — Manchester versions of 
Sleepy Hollow, — and most impressive is the slow move- 
ment of Time, in all his affairs, as therein delineated. 
How we have quickened his paces in these railway days ! 
Were the venerable greybeard to linger upon the line now, 
or rest at the fatal points, the train would assuredly run 

Si Anii's Square and its Silent Inmates. 257 

him down, and so prevent the celebration of his nineteenth- 
century birthday. Here he is, in fancy, with flowing fore- 
lock, dreaming (but not of railways) beside his hour-glass ; 
and instead of rushing after the rushing newsboy for the 
latest telegram, he would wait a week for his tardy news- 
paper. If any important intelligence arrived in the 
meantime, he set the bells a-ringing, and the welcome or 
the warning pealed forth from the church tower, instead of 
quietly issuing, as now, from the telegraph ofHce. Poor old 
Time ! He must needs re-sharpen his scythe. Though a 
matchless worker in his prime, he is ageing now, and the 
glory of the brightest day departs when the sun goes 

Looking somewhat more literally at our pictures of 
Manchester as it was, we perceive two covered inlets pre- 
occupying the site of the present Exchange Street. One, 
significantly termed the Dark Entry, otherwise Acre's 
Court, with a pump at the further end, served the unambi- 
tious pedestrians ; the other — Coffee-house Entry — much 
wider, and running underneath a portion of the Eagle and 
Child Coffee-house, accommodated, one at a time, the few 
vehicles then in use. This pile of buildings was taken 
down (according to Wheeler's History) about 1776, to make 
way for Exchange Street ; a few years later the Exchange 
itself was removed from the central position it had so long 
occupied. Thus the original form of the Market Place 
was obliterated, and its aspect became entirely changed. 
We owe something — gratitude at the least — to the useful 
hands, with timely pencils, who hastened to sketch our 
doomed antiquities when their knell had been officially 
sounded. Only in these pictured resemblances can we 

258 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

now recognise our ancient historical town, or understand 
how widely it differed in every essential particular — in 
form, character, and manners — from the modern city 
engrossing its name and place. Engrossing may sound a 
harsh term, but it justly applies to all impatient heirs who, 
imitating Prince Henry, put on the kingly crown before 
the king resigns in a natural way. Leaving the Dark 
Entry upon our right hand, we will now pass under the 
wider archway, and so enter St Ann's Square. Amongst 
the traders in this gateway, the most prominent objects (as 
we glean from chronicles, not from drawings) were an 
industrious cobbler and his stall, ready to repair, with all 
the philosophy pertaining to the gentle craft, the fractured 
shoe of any " citizen of the world " who might chance to be 
passing. With this cobbler and his stall we need not 
dwell. Goldsmith has efficiently described a similar pair ; 
and Liverseege has painted them — industrious and homely, 
and with a partiality for the Political Register. On emerg- 
ing into the square, we are confronted by two rows of 
trees, standing in Indian file, one row on each side. They 
profess to be young plane-trees, duly rooted in the earth, 
but to uncultured visions they resemble vegetable nine- 
pins as placed in a skittle-alley, and awaiting the bowlers 
to topple them over. We marvel how such trees with- 
stood the wind-storm that swept the country in 1703, or 
braved the hurricane of 1802, when one of the dial-plates of 
St Ann's clock was forced from its position. This ground, 
a few years prior to the scene reviewed, was Acre's Field, 
with a turnstile used for regulating the ingress and egress 
of holiday visitors to the fair. An eye-witness of those 
curious festivals was James Ogden, still faintly remem- 

Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 259 

bered as "Poet Ogden," who published anonymously in 
1783 a useful description of Manchester, founded on 
personal observation. This brochure is still consulted, 
while the laboured epics of the writer are utterly 
neglected — a comparison that would apply to some 
authors of greater mark. If asked, for example, what 
Lady Morgan wrote, we should be apt to reply " Kate 
Kearney," — forgetful of the numerous volumes on which 
she hoped to build her fame ; yet " Kate Kearney " was 
flung off in a girhsh impulse — the one Promethean spark 
vouchsafed to mortal. James Ogden's son — of blanketeer- 
ing fame — was interred in St Ann's Churchyard, but his 
grave (as we learn from one of his descendants) is now 
outside the eastern railing, and within the narrow passage 
leading to the bank of Messrs Jones, Loyd, & Company. 

Beyond the eccentric plane-trees, from which we have 
slightly wandered, and at the extremity of the modern 
houses, appear St Ann's Church and graveyard, then 
newly erected and formed. Here let us seriously contem- 
plate a few epitaphs, marking the uncertainties of life. 
From such consecrated ground Humour must depart with 
her mimes, meek Reverence taking her stead. 

The earhest notices of St Ann's Church are found in the 
homely diary of a Manchester wigmaker, which we had 
once the curiosity to read in the worn manuscript volume. 
It has since been included (barring a few items that must 
remain unprinted) in Mr Harland's " Collectanea." 

" 17 12, July 17. — Remarkable for St Ann's Church consecration, 
and a great concourse of people. Good business, and I sober at 
eight o'clock at night, but was merry before I went to bed. Bishop 
Dawes performed the consecration, Mr Bagaly endowed it, the clergy 
responded at entrance, Mr Ainscough read prayers, Beatman 'sponsed, 

26o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the Bishop read the gift both in Latin and English, Mr Bond preached 
on ' Holiness becometh thine house, O Lord.' Then the Bishop and 
clergy, and who would, stayed sacrament. Thus they was about four 
hours in this great work. 

" 20th. — Great work at St Ann's. 

" September 20. — This being market and Accar's Fair and all, I 
wish good business. 

" 17 1 3, May 13. — Yesterday was buried Dr Yarborough at New 
Church, Dr Banne preached his funeral sermon. He's the first that 
ever was buried there. [This statement is verified by the register, 
the first entry therein being as follows : — " 17 13, May 12th. — Doctr 
Yarborough, buried at St Ann's."] 

"June 14. — Stayed at home forenoon; heard Bishop of Man in 
St Ann's afternoon on peace of conscience. 

" August 2. — I fled to St Ann's ; in forenoon I heard Dr Leaster 

" 1 6th. — Heard Dr Banne at St Ann's two sermons, one on the 
sacrament, the other on sincerity of intention. 

" 1714, August 3. — Heard this day of Queen Anne's death; 
there's great sorrow for her. 

" 6th. — News of King George's proclamation at London, ist instant. 
Heard King George prayed for at St Ann's Church this day. O 
God, send us peace ! " 

Quitting the quaint diary for the lettered gravestones, 
a lengthy Latin inscription informs the reader that the 
remains of Nathanael Banne, A.M. (apparently the first 
regular pastor of the church), were here deposited in Sep- 
tember 1736, at the age of sixty-five. Another Latin in- 
scription records that Josephus Hoole, A.M., rector, died 
on the 27th of November 1745, aged sixty-three. Various 
descriptive writers have paused at this grave, and, without 
quoting the epitaph, have told us with evident delight how 
sedately the Pretender's officers surrounded the mourners 
during the burial of Mr Hoole, behaving as Christians and 
as gentlemen. Although, as soldiers, they had thrown 

Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 261 

down the gauntlet in defiance of death, they stood, with 
bonnets and plumes reversed, on the neutral confines of 
the grave. Strange that all our local painters have over- 
looked this historic scene. One will migrate to Bettws, 
another to Conway, while a third rambles to Ambleside, 
in search of a fresh subject where little of freshness re- 
mains, to the utter neglect of an impressive picture lying 
at their own door. " Dearly bought and far-fetched," may 
be good for artists as well as for ladies. 

A neighbouring inscription to that of Mr Hoole marks 
the family grave of the Quinceys : — 

" lie the remains of Mrs Sarah Penson, 

Relict of the late Samuel Penson, of London, 
who died Jany. i6, 1790, aged 69 years. 
Also of Thomas Quincey, Merchant, who died 
July 18, 1793, aged 40 years." 

Then follow the names of two daughters of Thomas and 
Elizabeth Quincey. In November 1780, the Mercury thus 
announced the wedding of these parents of the Opium- 
Eater : — " Wednesday last was married, at St George's, 
Queen Square, Mr Thomas Quincey, linen merchant in 
this town, to Miss Penson of North Street, London." Of 
the Opium-Eater himself an interesting reminiscence 
occurs in a thoughtful article, " The Visible and the In- 
visible in Libraries," contributed by Mrs R. C. Waterston 
to the Atlantic Monthly, and since pubHshed in pamphlet 
form by Mr Robert Holt of Manchester :— " Coming back 
from the Paduan hall, so weird and ghostly, we glance 
along the shelves at a long row of volumes which bear De 
Quincey's name, and we need not open a page to feel the 
mysterious spell of the Opium-Eater. Like one of those 

262 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

strange dreams of his seems a remembrance which comes 
back to us with his name. A quaint, tall house in the old 
part of Edinburgh has admitted us into a quiet apartment, 
where, as the twilight is creeping in through the windows, 
a small grey man receives us, with graceful and tender 
courtesy. He converses with a felicity of language like 
that of his printed pages, but in a voice so sweet, so low, 
so exquisitely modulated, that the magical tone vibrates 
on the ear like music. It was De Quincey, who held 
us entranced until darkness gathered around us, then 
bade us farewell, his kind words lingering on the air, as, 
with a flickering candle in his hand, he flitted up the 
winding stair, and vanished away." It will be remem- 
bered that De Quincey, dying at Edinburgh towards the 
close of 1859, was interred at St Cuthbert's Church in that 
city. Some day, we may safely anticipate, one of the 
numerous summer tourists to the lochs and mountains, 
turning aside from the beaten tra'ck, will visit the grave of 
the profound thinker, and inform us of the nature of his 
epitaph, or the character of his monument. His eldest 
surviving son, Francis John de Quincey, M.D., died at 
Brazil on the 12th of April 1861. 

The request herein contained has been promptly gra- 
tified. A gentleman of Crumpsall, drawn by business or 
pleasure to the Modern Athens, very considerately copied 
for us the inscription to the Opium-Eater's memory, 
accompanying it by a sketch of the tombstone, as it 
appears fixed against the wall of St Cuthbert's Church- 
yard, facing the Caledonian Railway Station. The sketch 
has since been carefully elaborated. Our obliging cor- 
respondent describes the tombstone as being about six ' 


6V Anns Square and its Silent Inmates. 263 

feet high, two feet and a half wide, and made of plain 
polished freestone. The gentle controversy touching 
Thomas de Quincey's birthplace is perplexed rather than 
set at rest by this latest evidence, the monumental in- 
scription. It states that he was born at Greenhay; 
whereas his father's will and other family documents 
(formerly in the possession of the late Mr John Sudlow) 
show that the house was not built until the close of 1790, 
five years subsequent to the birth of the future author. 
The documents are thus supported by De Quincey him- 
self in a reminiscence of his sixth year : — " Greenhay, a 
country-house newly built by my father, at that time 
was a clear mile from the outskirts of Manchester; but 
in after years Manchester, throwing out the tentacula of 
its vast expansions, absolutely enveloped Greenhay. . . . 
After changes so great, it will be difficult for the habitue 
of that region to understand how my brother and myself 
could have a solitary road to traverse between Greenhay 
and Princess Street, then the termination, on that side, 
of Manchester. But so it was." Moreover, his baptism 
at St Ann's strengthens the conviction that he was born 
at his father's town-residence. 

Returning to St Ann's Churchyard, we trace, on the 
south side, the lettered stone of a once "very consider- 
able hatter : " — 

" Here lyeth the body of Miles Bower, who 
died March 22, 1780, aged 84. Elizabeth, 
his Wife, buried 22nd of October 1771, in 
the 7Sth year of her age." 

Then follow, in peculiar arrangement, the names and 
dates of demise of seven of their sons and daughters. 

264 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

The homes of Miles Bower & Son, standing backward 
from Aldport Lane, and with numerous posts in front, 
is pictured in Berry & Casson's plan of the town. At 
the north-east corner of the churchyard may be read 
the "short and simple annal" of a local public charac- 
ter — John Shaw — who won much notice during life, 
and whose Punch-House near the Old Shambles, in 
Smithy Door, has been frequently described since Dr 
Aikin first drew attention to its peculiarities. Appar- 
ently the veteran outlived his race, the dates on the 
stone proving that a numerous family preceded him to 
the grave. When John Shaw's Punch-House was con- 
verted to the King's Head Tavern, the " house-warming " 
was duly announced in the Mercury in January 1809. 

The last inscription we shall extract from St Ann's 
bears reference to a post-office functionary who was 
eulogised in the newspaper obituary as "second to none 
in this part of the kingdom in the knowledge of his pro- 

" Here was interred John Willatt, late Post- 
Master of this town, who departed this hfe 
July 24, 1772, aged 41 years. . . . Also 
Sarah Willatt, late Post-Mistress of this town, 
who departed this life 25 December 1801, 
aged 70 years." 

Latterly the suggestion has been mooted that St Ann's 
Church, being considered no longer an ornament, should 
be removed, giving place to a wide entrance into King 
Street; merely sentiment and feeling, it is stated, stand- 
ing in the way of the alteration. But do not these two 
elements furnish the poetry of life, which Hazlitt affirms 

Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 265 

is the only part worth possessing? Ignore sentiment 
and feeling, and what will remain save the hard, unlov- 
able selfishness which is the bane of society? Even 
self-interest may suggest forbearance, remembering that 
the living of to-day may become the dead of to-morrow. 
When the removal of a graveyard is a stern necessity, 
it may be decently covered, even lightly built over, but 
never exhumed. " Dust to dust," saith the Word. 

The publication of this chapter has elicited two or 
three letters containing matter of peculiar interest, which 
may in part be made available here. " Mulberry Street, 
out of Ridge Field [writes a former student of our 
Grammar School] was named after a fine mulberry-tree 
that grew there. I have a dim recollection of St Ann's 
Churchyard before a part of the yard was added to the 
street. I also remember the church being draped in 
black during Lent; and old Miss Newberry, a resident 
in King Street (where Anderson's shop now stands), 
being conveyed in probably the last of the sedans to 
attend morning prayers at St Ann's." The memory of 
our informant is supported by a line, repeated through 
a series of years, in Pigot's Directories — " Newberry, Mrs 
Ann, 50 King Street." The final appearance of the name 
was in 1829, 

Later still, we may take our farewell of the sedan- 
chair with Miss Eleanor Atherton, long a resident of " 23 
Quay Street, and of Kersall Cell," but now reposing in the 
moorland churchyard. Finding the sedan of her youth 
(apart from the nimble-footed linkboy) convenient for 
the infirmities of her age, she retained it in use almost to 
the close of her life. Thus the sedan-chair was rendered 

266 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

familiar to Miss Atherton's neighbours, as likewise to her 
fellow-worshippers at St John's Church, under the minis- 
try of its recently-deceased pastor, the Rev. William Hunt- 

From another correspondent comes a curious revelation 
of the past — a recollection of a passage in Manchester his- 
tory which may serve as a sequel to our notes upon St 
Ann's Churchyard : — 


" I was dining, some thirty years ago, with the late Dr S. L. 
Bardsley. When the cloth was removed, the conversation took a 
more narrative character than is usual. Many personal recollections 
were told, and at length one of the guests incidentally mentioned 
the traditions of Manchester at the time of the Jacobite disturbances. 
Upon this our host observed how singular it was that the authorities 
of that day had never discovered the persons who had removed from 
the Manchester Exchange the heads of Jemmy Dawson (the hero of 
Shenstone's ballad) and the two Deacons, which had been exposed 
there, after their execution, as participators in the Jacobite troubles. 
He added that he was the only person living who could then solve 
the mystery. He went on to say, that many years previously (I 
forget the exact date) he was in attendance upon one Miss Hale 
who lived in King Street, and who had been a great partisan of 
Charles Edward. The old lady, who was then about ninety years 
of age, and believed herself to be dying, as was in fact the case, dis- 
missed all her attendants from the room except the doctor ; and 
having ascertained from him that she had not many hours to live, 
told him that her brother, who was then dead, was the person who 
had removed the heads in question, and that they were then buried 
in the garden at the back of the house in which she was living. She 
concluded by making him promise that, when she was gone, he would 
have them taken up and placed in consecrated gi-ound. 

" I need hardly add that Dr Bardsley strictly fulfilled her wishes. 
Three skulls were found in the garden, as she had stated, and they 

Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 267 

were placed, as I understood, in St Ann's Churchyard. This is the 
more probable as there are now tombs of the Deacons to be found 


A few words of explanation seem necessary. The head 
of James Dawson was never exhibited upon our Exchange, 
nor more than one of the Deacons. The general belief 
is, that only two heads (those of Thomas Theodorus 
Deacon and Thomas Syddall) were there displayed ; but 
in some accounts the cranium of Thomas Chadwick is 
added. The early executions connected with this dis- 
trict form the unsatisfactory part of our history, some of 
the printed statements concerning them being vague or 
traditionary, while in other instances the authorities are 
so contradictory that we are perforce reminded of the 
opening lines of Macheath's ballad — " How happy could 
I be with either, were t'other dear charmer away." Now 
that the Palatine records are removed from Lancaster to 
London to facilitate reference, the perplexing doubts, the 
bootless surmises, hitherto prevailing, may shortly be dis- 
persed by the more certain information embodied in those 
long-hidden documents. 

When our first Exchange was taken down, the build- 
ing materials were bought by a Mr Upton of Church 
Street : so states an aged resident, whose useful remem- 
brances are embodied in " Collectanea." The same resi- 
dent further sayeth, that he saw a portion of those mate- 
rials lying in Mr Upton's yard, near Shepley Street, Bank 
Top, and noticed that the two spikes whereon the heads 
of Deacon and Syddall had been placed still remained 
fastened in one of the stones. 

268 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

The first Exchange deserves more than a mere cursory 
glance or passing remark, as we have elsewhere shown. 
It is worth the modern citizen's while — if the organ of com- 
parison be marked "Full" upon the flattering phreno- 
logical character kept at home for private consolation — 
to take a peep at the vast, elaborate Town Hall, — at the 
noble, newly-erected Exchange, — at the theatres (the 
Royal, the Prince's, the Queen's), — and then rest his 
eyes upon this portraiture of the neat edifice which did 
duty for them all little more than a century ago ! Could 
silent contrast be more eloquent or impressive ? Here 
is the rise and progress of mercantile Manchester vividly 
conveyed in a glance. Alas for the blind ! — sad must be 
their deprivation, when striking comparisons such as 
these are lost to their sightless orbs. It was long ac- 
credited, upon the averment of the "oldest inhabitant," 
that our first theatre was formed of wood and canvas, 
but thorough research proved that the early players 
exercised their vocation in the more substantial buildine 
here represented. Doubtless, the town was formerly 
surrounded by growing timber, but a stone quarry also 
existed in the neighbourhood, at Collyhurst, and our an- 
cestors were wise enough to utilise both materials — in 
their theatre, as likewise in their church. 

Public interest in the subject of the Jacobite rising has 
been newly awakened by Mr William Harrison Ainsworth 
in his latest novel, entitled "The Manchester Rebels of 
the Fatal '45." 

" When I was a boy," writes Mr Ainsworth in his preface, " some 
elderly personages with whom I was acquainted were kind enough to 
describe to me events connected with Prince Charles's visit to Man- 


6"/ Amis Square and its Silent Inmates, 269 

Chester, and the stories I then heard made a lasting impression upon 

"All my early life being spent in Manchester, where I was born 
[on the 4th of February 1805, in King Street], bred, and schooled, I 
am naturally familiar with the scenes I have attempted to depict. 

" Little of the old town, however, is now left. The lover of an- 
tiquity — if any such should visit Manchester— will search in vain for 
those picturesque black-and-white timber habitations, with pointed 
gables and latticed windows, that were common enough sixty years 
ago. Entire streets, embellished by such houses, have been swept 
away in the course of modern improvement. But I recollect them 
well. No great effort of imagination was therefore needed to recon- 
struct the old town as it existed in the middle of the last century ; but 
I was saved from the possibility of error by an excellent plan, almost 
of the precise date, by John A. Berry, to which I made constant 
reference during my task. Views are given in this plan of the prin- 
cipal houses then recently erected, and as these houses were occupied 
by Prince Charles and the Highland chiefs during their stay in 
Manchester, I could conduct the rebel leaders to their quarters with- 
out difficulty. One of the houses, situate in Deansgate, belonged to 
my mother's uncle, Mr Touchet. This is gone, as is Mr Dickenson's 
' fine house in Market Street Lane, where the Prince was lodged. In- 
deed, there is scarcely a house left in the town that has the slightest 
historical association belonging to it." 

With this congenial extract we may fittingly take leave 
of the Manchester rebels, whose adventures are so closely 
allied to our first Exchange and to St Ann's Square. 



"One passion I had, and that was to hunt up every relic of antiquity I 
could possibly manage to travel to ; and there vi'as not an old hall nor an old 
church within a, circuit of twelve or fourteen miles that I did not make a 
pilgrimage to. The vestiges of old Manchester claimed particular attention, 
and I haunted the neighbourhood of the College and the Church, looking at 
the outsides of the houses (I was too shy to think of asking permission to 
enter any of them), until I knew every chink in their weather-beaten faces, 
and came to look upon them as my intimate friends." 

" Green Mantle," by Joseph Perrin. 

AS our chapters draw towards a close, we find upon 
- our hands a few interesting facts which concern the 
town in general rather than apply to particular localities. 
Being centenarians, these facts are clothed with certain 
simplicities of expression and of nature, long ago obhter- 
ated by modern refinement. As they present a rather 
curious picture of Manchester life during the last century, 
their revival here seems legitimate. The whole are in- 
cluded — auctioneer-fashion — in one lot, for the purpose of 
effecting a clearance. 

1 746, April. — " To be sold at John Berry's shop in Manchester, a 
curious plan and prospect of Manchester and Salford, price eighteen- 
pence. Ditto, price sixpence, small. Prospects of churches, St 
Ann's Square, and the Long Room, at threepence each." 

This advertisement, appearing in Whitworth's Manchester 
Magazine, seems to bear reference to a reprint (with some 
alterations) of the plan and prospect issued in 1741 by 

Bits of our Borough Town. 2 7 1 

John Berry and Russel Casson. In 175 1 was published a 
third edition, with further variations. 

1755. — " Whereas, in the night time, between the 30th and 31st 
of December, one of the gates belonging to the Collegiate Church was 
thrown into the river ; Part of four gate pillars belonging to St 
Ann's Church were thrown down : And one end of the Stocks, in 
the Market Place, pulled up and carried away : " 

A reward of twenty guineas was offered for information 
that would lead to the apprehension of the offenders. The 
spirit of mischief was evidently abroad. Those midnight 
larkers were the precursors of the modern roysterers who 
glory in wrenching off knockers and hurling them through 
bedroom windows with a noise that might startle the Seven 

1763, Sept. — "To be sold, all that messuage and tenement, with 
the outhousing, orchard, and garden, called Withingreave [Withy 
Grove] Hall. Also, one dwelling-house, divided into three cottages. 
And also four closes of land and meadow ground, containing eight 
acres and a half, lying very conveniently at the higher end of Shude 

1765, July 30. — "Whereas, the Reservoir at the top of Shude 
Hill was by some malicious person cut down, and the water let off, 
on the 13th of this month : This is therefore to give notice, that if 
any person will inform who did the same, they shall upon conviction 
of the offender receive Five Guineas reward. And whereas some 
persons have made a practice of drowning Cats and Dogs, washing 
dirty Linnen [which, proverbially, should be washed at home], and 
carrying away water from Shude Hill pitts, and the pit at the top 
of Market Street Lane, without consent : This is therefore to give 
notice, that if any person or persons do the same for the future, they 
shall be prosecuted to the utmost rigour of the law." 

1767. — "Notice is hereby given, that on Saturday the 28th day 
of November, the following regulations will take place within the 
Manor of Manchester : — The Exchange [then standing in the 
Market Place, where the large lamp is now seen] and the south and 
east avenues to it, to be cleared from butchers' standings and all 

272 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

other standings. The butchers' standings to be placed against the 
other parts of the Exchange, and in two lines on the sides of the 
Market Place, to near the end of Old Millgate. The bread bakers' 
stands to be in the place near the Cross where the Wheat Market 
was held. Potatoes, turtiips, carrots, and other roots sold wholesale, 
to be exposed for sale in the New Potato Market, and no other 
place. Fruit, and roots of all kinds, sold by hucksters, in the Apple 
Market, and no other place. Shoes and stockings and hardware, in 
the lower part of the Withingreave, where the potato market has 
heretofore been held. The gardeners' stands to be placed in the 
upper end of Smithy Door ; and fish in the Market Place, near the 

The hay and straw market was removed, in 1804, from 
Market Stead Lane to Bridgewater Street, Deansgate. 

1768. — "To the inhabitants of the town of Manchester. This is 
to give notice : That if the liberty or privilege of passing and Re- 
passing through a certain building called the Exchange, near King 
Street, in the said town of Manchester, which the owners thereof 
have for several years permitted the said inhabitants to enjoy, be of 
any convenience or utility to the said inhabitants in general, or to 
any of them in particular, they may purchase such liberty or privilege 
upon reasonable terms." 

1769, January 10. — "It is reported that there will soon be 
opened a new spacious road from the top of the hill beyond the 
Infirmary to Ardwick Green Bridge, but whether it is to be done by a 
voluntary contribution of particular gentlemen who desire it, or at 
the expense of the inhabitants of the town of Manchester, who will 
not be in the least benefited by it, is not yet determined, though it is 
a matter of some consequence, as it will cost several hundred pounds." 

"Manchester, October 9, 1770. — The inhabitants of this town are 
desired to take notice, that the old engines for extinguishing fires are 
at the Lodge in the Old Churchyard, and in the Engine House, Tib 
Lane, as heretofore ; that one new small engine is at St John's 
Church ; a second at St Mary's ; a third in the Angel Yard, Market 
Place; a fourth at Mr Josiah Birch's, High-street; and a fifth at 
Deputy Kay's, Milngate, where they are kept in constant readiness ; 
and the constables beg this opportunity of requesting all manner of 
persons to be most careful in preventing the necessity of using them." 

B lis of our Borough Town. 273 

1 77 1. — "To be Let, all that ancient mansion, house, and pre- 
mises, known by the name of Lever's Hall, situate at the upper end of 
Market Street Lane ; either altogether, or divided into two parts ; with 
or vnthout the addition of such other buildings as shall be required 
for the carrying on the business of the tenant or tenants ; the whole 
or either part is, or may be made, convenient for an Inn, Boarding 
School, or other public purpose." 

In 1788 this hall had become the White Bear, in Lever's 

The next curious item may be added to the forthcoming 
edition of the " History of Signboards." It points to the 
period when shops as well as taverns were commonly indi- 
cated and adorned by projecting emblems : — 

" Manchester, Dec. 24, 177 1. — With the approbation and concur- 
rence of the Magistrates, we, the Boroughreeve and Constables, request 
the shopkeepers and Inn-holders of this town, who have not already 
taken down their signs, to do the same as soon as possible, and 
place them against the walls of their houses, as they have been long, 
and justly, complained of as nuisances. They obstruct the free pass- 
age of the air, annoy the passengers in wet weather, darken the 
streets, &c., all which inconvenience will be prevented by a compli- 
ance with our request, and be manifestly productive both of elegance 
and utility. — ^Thomas Scott, Benjamin Bower, John Bell." 

1772, Nov. 26. — "At a town's meeting, held at Fletcher's Tavern, 
a proposal was made to give up to the use of the public a new road 
called Oldham Street, leading betwixt the top of Market Street Lane 
and the Ancoats Lane, in the way to the towns of Oldham and 
Ashton-under-Lyne ; that this township will take upon itself the 
repair thereof. Adjourned to the 3rd of December next to consider." 

1789, Feb. 13. — " The Boroughreeve and Constables hereby give 
notice, that proper officers will be stationed in different parts of the 
town, to prevent the unlawful practices of cockfighting and throwing 
at cocks during the week of Shrove-Tide. The Special Constables 
are desired to assist, and to patrole the streets, agreeable to notices 
they will receive." 

In the iirst volume of Hone's " Every-Day Book," pub- 


2 74 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

lished in 1826, appears a rude comical woodcut, illustrative 
of the custom of throwing or shying at cocks and hens 
on Shrove-Tuesday. It represents the scene of a miracle 
occurring in Staffordshire, prior to the year 1749, when the 
feelings of a hen were so much hurt by the ungrateful 
shying of her owner, that she upbraided him in round set 
terms, as she lay bleeding upon the ground. " What have 
I done,'' inquired her henship, " to deserve such cruel 
treatment at thy hands ? Did not my new-laid eggs enrich 
thy pancakes ? " and much more to the same laudable 
purport. The astonishment of the rustics on hearing this 
novel oration is fairly portrayed in the aforesaid woodcut. 
Although no similar miracle hastened the decline and 
fall of the custom of throwing at cocks in Manchester, it 
sank into disuse shortly after the date of the foregoing 
official announcement. 

With the closing year of the last century appeared a 
couple of brief notifications, which contrast strongly with 
present usage : — 

1800, June. — "On Saturday a man was convicted, before the 
magistrates at the New Bailey for selUng bread before it had been 
baked twenty-four hours, and paid the penalty of five pounds, besides 

1 800, June. — " On Friday last were seized in this town, by the 
market-lookers, seven hundred lumps of butter", which were short of 
the weight denominated, and which were distributed the next day 
amongst the poor inhabitants." 

This practice is carried back to 17 12 by a note in 
Harrold's Diary: — "June 28th. — I being sent for to look 
at butter weight, J. Low, Tho. Bent, and me took ten 
prints. I gave three to Crossley, Halliwell, and Symister, 
and Holden's wife gave Mr Samuell one print." On another 

Bits of otir Borough Town. 275 

occasion the diarist was sent for "to look the milk 
measures." So it would appear that shopkeepers were 
then called to act as triers in the market, in much the 
same manner as they are now called to act as jury- 

Such seizures were formerly of frequent occurrence. 
One market-day in particular — so the story goes — a 
dealer, happening to see the ominous shadow of the 
market-looker, made preparations for the coming event 
by pushing an old penny into each light lump of butter. 
Being a copper coin short of the required number, 
and pressed for time, he slipped in a crown-piece as 
a substitute. The butter, when officially tested, was 
still found wanting, and ruthlessly carried away, Brit- 
annia and St George and the Dragon notwithstanding. 

In the event of any reader wishing to test the gen- 
uineness of these unpolished nuggets — the yield of 
divers diggings in one mine — a general reference may 
be given to Mercury, the universal messenger of strange 
tidings, whose chief terrestrial office is now at Chetham's 
Library, with a branch at Campfield. 

Mr John Stanley Gregson, in his book on Manchester 
men and manners, states that a little place called Clock 
Alley, near Withy Grove, received its name in a singular 
manner. We are enabled to verify his statement, having 
ever sihce our boyhood dwelt in that neighbourhood, 
and many books have passed from our store to its older 
residents. Though now wearing a neglected appearance, 
this alley was remarkable, towards the close of the last 
century, and later, for a tenantry of a superior yet work- 
ing-class character. Chiefly fustian cutters and weavers, 

276 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

they managed, by prudent attention, to furnish their 
homes with comfort and taste. Although their wages 
were not high, rent and taxes were low, while their little 
gardens added pleasurably to their store. Further, they 
were reasonably content with their true position, never 
sacrificing the substance for the shadow in vain efforts 
to keep pace with fashion. Nearly every house pos- 
sessed as its most useful, prizable ornament, an eight- 
day clock, and hence the name of CLOCK Alley. 

Another of the peculiar features of the borough town, 
unseen at the present day, was the ''"Hot Chelsea Bun ; " 
but of that popular compound little must be here written. 
The first crier sold his dainty bits before the date of our 
remembrance, and the last vanished so recently, that he 
may be safely left to the recollection of his many friends. 
James Robinson, the first to retail this description of 
pastry in Manchester, having departed from the scene 
of his peregrinations, a second trader of interest appeared 
in our midst, who announced in soft, musical tones, the 
addition of Bath buns to his usual Chelsea supply. With 
the third local crier the race appears to have died out ; 
our streets no longer echo the once familiar sounds ; and 
to us the bun itself is consequently as much extinct as 
the vendors, for it could only be a tasteless counterfeit 
if purchased in a shop. Regretfully, therefore, we con- 
sign the " Hot Chelsea Bun " to premature oblivion, — 
to slumber (geology willing) with the lost arts and for- 
gotten mysteries of the pre- Adamite world. 



" There children on the tombstones play ; 
Here little sweepy wends his way, 

And curs profanely tread : 
There wedding folk, with cheerful looks, 
Trip lightly ; — there good Master Brookes 
Inters the peaceful dead." * 

TT OLLINGWORTH, referring to the most ancient 
-*• -*■ mementoes existing at his era within the Col- 
legiate Church, mentions certain alabaster statues formerly- 
placed on the north side of the choir ; but nothing of the 
kind has been there seen within the range of living 
memories — nothing more antique than the familiar brasses 
of John Huntington the first warden, and of Bishop 
Stanley. Touching the memorials in the yard, Mr Palmer, 
writing in 1829, thus observes : — "Adjoining the boundary- 
railing, immediately south from Brown's Chapel, is a muti- 
lated stone, bearing an inscription, and containing the 
oldest date (1632) we could find in the churchyard, except 
one that a few years ago was lying under the window of 
the Strangeways Chapel, which had only two initials and 
the date 1 545 upon it, but is now removed, and probably 
destroyed." The first-mentioned of these stones, to the 

* "A View in Manchester in the Year 1818," by Charles Kenworlhy. 

278 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

memory of Joane Heighfield, is not at present observable, 
being covered with soil ; but as it still occupies the same 
site, and is merely hidden and turned, let us hope it will 
one day, imitating Whittington, "turn again." Another 
slab, one year older, filled with a lengthy and interesting 
epitaph, disappeared many years ago, but a facsimile 
copy, taken by Thomas Barritt, is preserved in the Greaves 
Collection. A second copy has been secured, from a 
private source, by Mr Councillor Baker. This being the 
oldest available inscription belonging to the yard, it has 
received unusual attention. The worn letters and muti- 
lated figures having in some parts been erroneously 
deciphered by Mr Barritt, Mr Baker has corrected them 
from family papers. Here is the reliable version : — 

" Here resteth the body of Old William 
Tailor of Marslech, Bur: 4 of June 1632, of 
his ag : 80 ; and of Ehzabeth his wife, Bu : 
Nov. II, 1631, ag: 70, famous in their tyme ; 
and of their sons Abraham Tailor, Nathaniel 
Tailor, Isaac Tailor, Bur: at Boulton. Jacob' 
Tailor of Ofiferton in Cheshire, Bur: Aug. 22, 
1662, the non-such of his time in the place 
where he lived. Samuel Taylor of Moston 
Bu: August 30, 1664, ag: 71, of whom the 
world was not worthy. Sing on faire souls 
your sweet anthems to our great King above, 
Whilst I with weeping eyes awhile do wander 
here below, hoping ere while to sing with you 
above. Alsoe Zacharie Tailor of Marshleach, 
Chapman, was buried Jany. 23, 1670." 

" Joshua Tailor \ j^^^jj f Jany ye 29, 1700. 
Marget his wife J ( Nov. ye 10, 1700." 

" Nathaniel Tailor of Moston, burd the 27 
of Jahy. 1709. J. T. Jan. 1702." 

Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 279 

The Marsleach here mentioned is a portion of the town- 
ship of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, and lying on the north side 

Another interesting slab contains a record which, in its 
biographical fulness, is very satisfying to the reader. It is 
one of those original memorials, reverent and unassuming, 
which the Society of Antiquaries has recently expressed 
an earnest desire to preserve. Apparently this stone was 
removed from the interior about the year 1690, a new 
one of larger dimensions and with fresh inscriptions being 
substituted. Fortunately the discarded treasure is not 
lost, only turned, and the primitive lettering can at any 
time be easily restored to the light of day. The position 
is indicated by the Hope and Anchor Tavern. For the 
genuine epitaph, rendered verbatim, we are indebted to 
Mr Owen : — 

" Here . lyeth . the . Bodye . of Hvmfrey . 
Booth . whose Piety . lives . in . Trinity 
Chappell . at . Salford . hee being . the 
cheife . fovnder and . sole . liberal . endower 
of . his . Charity . in . a . perpetval annval 
large alowance to . the . poore . of . Salford 
These', hee . commited . not to . the . fayth . 
of . his . execvtors bvt . finished . and . per- 
fected them . in . his . life Hee . dyed . the 
23 day . of . Ivly Anno . Dom 1635. 
Love his Memory 
Imitate his Devotion." 

As a contrast to the ancient emblems, the most recent 
interments may now be cited. The latest before the 
closing of the ground was William Jackson, of Fairy Hill, 
Cheetham, who died on the 5th of August 1853. The last 
burial of all — for which a faculty was granted ^s denoted 

28o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

by a low tomb, surrounded by dwarf iron railings, on the 
south side of the yard, raised in remembrance of — 

" Cecil Daniel Wray, M.A., successively 
Chaplain, Fellow, and Canon of this Cathedral. 
Entered into his rest April 27, A.D. 1866, 
aged 88 years. ' Lord I have loved the habi- 
tation of Thy house, and the place where 
Thine honour dwelleth.' " 

Yet more recently, — at Christmas 1869, — another dig- 
nitary of the Cathedral (Bishop Lee) passed to his rest. 
His remains were not entombed here, but as his labours 
for the welfare of Manchester were continued almost to his 
latest hour, a notice of his grave and monument will not 
seem inappropriate in these Memorials. For this purpose 
a brief chapter, — the next ensuing, — may suffice. 

Amongst the curiosities of the intermediate epitaphs 
there are at the least two centenarians, — two facts for Mr 
Thoms, late editor of Notes and Queries, wherewith to 
illustrate his forthcoming volume anent human evergreens. 
Jonas Mann died November the 28th, 1780, aged one 
hundred and one ; and Ann Barton, of Salford, was buried 
on the 2d of April 18 16, at the age of one hundred and 
two, as certified in her rhyming epitaph. Another verse, 
near the south porch, long celebrated the prowess and for- 
bearance of a gentle Amazon of fewer summers : — 

" Ann, daughter to Danl. Bell and wife to 
John Gallant, buried February y" 2, 1691. 
Vnder this stone 

Here lies the Woman 
Who Gallant was. 

Did harm to no man." 

A rarity in the musical line deserves a passing notice — 

Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 28 1 

" George Williamson, died August 26, 
1773, aged eighty-three. He was near seventy 
years chorister and singing man to this 

Entering the vault beneath the choir, the first compart- 
ment on the right contains one coffin with the subjoined 
inscription : — 

" The Very Revd. Thomas Calvert, D.D., 
Warden of Christ College, Manchester, died 
4th June 1840, aged 65 years.'' 

Quitting during a brief space the monumental inscrip- 
tions, a little variety may be gained by culling some pecu- 
liar entries from the early registers. The rarest samples 
must perforce be omitted ; only a Smollett, a Fielding, 
or a Sterne could fittingly convey them, and the direct 
writer would require his own appreciative readers for 
such reperusal. Clearly, we cannot represent, in these 
nineteenth century columns, the " spade's a spade " phra- 
seology of our "rude forefathers." Where would be the 
utility of Harrow infusing the rudiments of composition, 
or of Cambridge adding the finishing graces, unless we 
utilise the scholarly advantages in refining the natural 
utterances of the uneducated } More meet for modern 
glances are the specimens annexed, some of which will 
be found sufficiently curious to suggest a note or raise 
a query at another time or place. A few running com- 
mentaries are interwoven : — 

" 1605, June 3. — A poor wench in Salford." 
" 1605, Nov. 14. — Rodger of y= Peek." 
" 1613, Dec. 26. — Margerie, widowe to Rodger of the Peele." 
" 1619, Dec. 27. — Ffrances, daugh. to Robert Ffletchsone, one of 
y"= Waits." 

282 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" 162 1, Feb. 4.— A poore woman, criple, died in y= streete, whose 
name is not known." 

" 162 1, July 10. — Marye y" wyffe of Robarte Rodley, of y' Peele 
in Chetham." [Hence Peel Lane, near the Mile House.] 

In the Mermry, January 1766, a lease is thus ad- 
vertised : — 

" Nine acres of land, with a stable, carthouse, and barn, being 
part of the estate called Peel, situate at the top of Red Bank." 

" 1623, Nov. 28. — A poore lad that dyed in the Colledge." 
" 1628, Nov. 30. — An infant of the Raggman's of Manchester." 
" 1683, Aug. s. — Thomas, a stranger found in the Fields." 
" 1688, April 5. — Ezra Taylor, being killed by a dragoone." 
" 1688, May 27. — John, son of James Kay, of Manchester, king's 

" 1693, July 3. — Mariah, daugh. to a Dutchman, a soldier." 
" 1693, July 9. — Peter, son to John Privoe, a Dutch trumpeter." 
" 1695, Aug. 13. — Eleanor Maddock, of Manch. buried in a field 
in Salford." 

" 1713? Dec. ij. — John Barnes, who was bellman of Manchester 
23 years." [Our last official crier was the late Elijah Ridings, at 
once bellman and bard. We well remember his picturesque livery and 
stentorian orations. Since his bell was silenced, many years have 
passed, but only a few months have elapsed since his own voice 
was hushed.] 

"1728, Feb. 3. — A strange man found dead in John Oldham 
barne in Cheetham." 

" 1743, April 29. — Mercey Defoe, widow, buried." 

As this name is almost unique in England, Mercy is 
supposed to have been a relative of the famous author, 
but the connecting links are wanting. Such relationship 
is probable enough, as only twelve years intervened 
between the decease of Mercy and that of Daniel. The 
probabiHty is strengthened by the fact (as recorded in 
Watson's "History of Halifax") that Defoe, retreating 
from persecution in London, resided some time at Halifax, 

Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 283 

in Yorkshire, his place of abode being the Rose and 

" 1763, Sep. 4. — John, son of William Jordan, calligue printer, 
of Little Green." 

So far as the registers are concerned, this is the ear- 
liest mention of calico-printing in the neighbourhood of 



" Death stood in the path of Time, 
And slew them as they came ; 
And not a soul escaped his hand, 

So certain was his aim : 
The beggar fell across his staff. 

The soldier on his sword, 
The king sank down beneath his crown. 
The priest beside the Word." 

Samuel Bamford. 

WHEN will a country churchyard cease to allure a 
thoughtful mind? The scenery need not be so rural 
as Stoke Pogeis, nor the gazer so sensitive as the poet Gray ; 
neither is the sound of the curfew nor the sombreness of 
evening requisite to induce a pensive feeling. When we 
chance to be under a passing cloud (and the brightest sky 
is liable to be obscured), we are apt to turn from the 
disappointing transactions of life, and seek — with no 
unwilling feet — the promised recompense of the tomb. 
As we have never paced the aisles of Westminster Abbey, 
and ruminated, like Washington Irving, in Poet's Corner, 
we know not the emotions engendered by a contemplation 
of noble names when most nobly enshrined. But this we 
know — that when we encounter a national name or monu- 
ment within the ivied walls of a remote village church, or 

The Bishop's Grave. 2S5 

meet with a mitred dignitary " taking his rest " simply, 
and apparently forgotten, in some sequestered hamlet, the 
contrast gives a double interest, if not always a double 

On the south side of the churchyard at Heaton Mersey, 
a village of comparatively modern growth overlooking the 
principal Cheshire stream, there is a blue granite monu- 
ment, about thirty inches high, bearing the subjoined 
inscription : — 

"James Prince Lee, D.D., First Bishop of 
Manchester. Born 28 July 1804, Died 24 
December 1869." 

At the head of the grave is the Greek word XAAIIISEI, 
signifying, "The trumpet shall sound." At the foot are 
two shields, containing the arms of the diocese and those 
of the Bishop. Upon the upper surface of the tomb ap- 
pears the resemblance of a mitre. 

As Bishop Lee died at his residence, Mauldeth Hall, 
Heaton Mersey, his interment at that churchyard was in 
strict accordance with the scriptural inj'unction, "In the 
place where the tree falleth, there it shall be ; " yet we 
naturally associate a bishop's tomb with his cathedral, 
and miss from its "long-drawn aisles" the appropriate 
and customary memento. 

In the terse biographical pages of " Men of the Time " 
(edition 1865), it is briefly stated that " the first Lord 
Bishop of Manchester was son of the late Mr Stephen Lee, 
secretary and librarian to the Royal Society. He was 
educated at St Paul's School, and proceeded thence to 
Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained a Craven 

2 86 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

scholarship, and graduated B.A. in high honours in 1828. 
He subsequently became Fellow of Trinity College, assis- 
tant-master of Rugby School under Dr Arnold, and head- 
master of King Edward's Grammar School at Birmingham, 
which post he held from 1838 to 1848. In the latter year 
he was consecrated to the See of Manchester, then recently 
erected by Act of Parliament. His income, as bishop, is 
four thousand two hundred pounds a year." 

In glancing over the memorial sermon preached by Dr 
Benson in the church at Heaton Mersey, shortly after the 
death of the Bishop, we find the grateful pupil thus charac- 
terising his former head-master: — "There was not one part 
of his mind or life of which this was not the ruling prin- 
ciple — ' Give me now the truth.' This was the man who 
came to you; a simple member often of your congregation 
— often your minister. How much on which your eyes rest 
was his gift to you ; and his last gift was to your city. 
Besides and above other gifts [including one of four thou- 
sand pounds towards building and endowing a church], the 
noble hbrary of learning, of Hterature, of art, which was 
the home of his brief leisure and his constant joy, which 
he turned to such noble ends, is devoted to the help and 
the culture of your sons for ever. May you use it worthily, 
and with tender thoughts of him who gave it to those he 
loved. Though he had a spirit which rejoiced to look back 
and count the treasures of old influence and intercourse 
which he had enjoyed, — though the ancient halls and 
chapel and grounds of Trinity were dearer to him than he 
knew how to express,-:-though the elms of Rugby, with 
their memories of Arnold, and of Whately, and of Burisen, 
were so dear, — though the ceaseless influx and reflux of 

The Bishop's Grave. 287 

the vast youth of Birmingham, within the ample high- 
roofed schools of Edward the Sixth, and the thought of the 
Christian seed they bore out with them, was to him a higher 
pride than any post could have been in the prime of his 
manhood, — ^yet you ought to know that his heart of hearts 
was here. ' I can trust God,' he said, when the sudden 
change made it necessary to tell him that but a few hours 
of life in all probability remained to him ; ' He has been 
with me at Rugby, at Birmingham, and in the grand work 
here.' This was the voice tliat seemed to linger in the 
sunshine and soft air — the sweet warmth, the strange 
brightness of the last day of the year, in which we laid 
him to rest in the open churchyard among his own poor ; 
it was like an early summer day in mid-winter ;— and to 
one it was so indeed, an early day of a summer that will 
not end." 

The library alluded to by Dr Benson now reposes in 
meet security at Owen's College, and contains about seven 
thousand volumes, chiefly substantial folios and quartos, 
many of the books being annotated in Bishop Lee's hand- 



" I do remember passing through 
A graveyard long ago ; 
I do remember loving too 

The form laid down below ; 
And often times the tear will start, 

When silent memory brings 
Those parting sobs, writ on my heart 
As unforgotten things." 

RicHARb Sheldon Chadwick. 

IN some manuscript leaves, written by the late Mr John 
Higson, the chronicler of Gorton and of Droylsden, 
occurs a remark with which we coincide : — " Much that 
is fallacious has been both written and handed down by 
tradition, as well as fabricated within a century past, 
relative to the early history of Manchester, and of its 
church before the period of collegiation." Mr Higson 
further considered, as the result of his investigations, 
that our early history ought to be briefly re-stated in a 
fresh light, for the purpose of correcting the unfounded 
surmises .and of removing the wrong impressions now 
current in consequence thereof. Unfortunately, Mr Hig- 
son's useful life was suddenly cut short, a few opening 
pages being all that remain of his projected book. He 
had previously, as he states, completed an elaborate 

The Way Home. 289 

essay, showing that Manchester possessed one church 
only — that one being St Mary's — at the time of the 
Conquest. This essay, entitled "Rough Notes on Old 
Manchester," he sent as a contribution to the editor of a 
local newspaper, who lent it to a friend for the purpose 
of being read at a meeting of the Rosicrucian Society 
The said friend placed it, along with a sketch of his own, 
in the pocket of a coat which was hung in the lobby of 
his house, whence the coat was purloined by a stray thief 
with (as may be assumed) literary proclivities. Mr Hig- 
son tried to replace his loss, but ineffectually, as some 
of his informants were dead, and some of the books of 
reference beyond his reach. 

A fatality seems to hang over our local historians or 
their subject-matter. Mr Harland once enumerated the 
luckless writers who, whilst elucidating the history of 
Lancashire (wholly or in part), "came to grief" during 
the process. To that list Mr Higson's name may now be 
added ; and perhaps the most striking illustration of all 
was presented in Mr Harland's own demise. The whole 
is suggestive of a warning, which will be little heeded. 
So long as there is fascination in a flame, moths will 
hover around, and anon rush through the blaze of glory, 
even though it scorch them. 

Mr Higson's lamented death, the result of a cold not 

expected to prove fatal, occurred at his residence, Birch 

Cottage, Lees, near Oldham. He " rests from his labours, 

literary and otherwise," on the south side of St Mary's 

Churchyard, Droylsden, — in which village his prime of 

manhood was passed. Here he published, in 1852, the 

"Gorton Historical Recorder," and, seven years later, 


290 Memorials 0/ Manchester Streets. 

the "History of Droylsden." Several articles from his 
pen, illustrative of the locality or. its notable residents, 
appeared in the earlier numbers of the Manchester 
Guardian. He was also a frequent contributor to the 
Ashton and Oldham newspapers, in addition to Notes and 
Queries. Mr Higson's industrious habits will be revealed 
by an extract from one of his letters to us, written in 
the year preceding his sudden decease. He was ever an 
excellent and voluminous correspondent : — 

"•I am afraid that there are few local authors who have realised 
much by their works. My Chancellor of the Exchequer tells me 
very plainly, that my printing whims in one shape or another have, 
at times, given her very considerable difficulty. 

" I am obliged for the reference to the old newspaper relative to 
James Butterworth [author of " Rocher Vale, and other Poems "], 
and have asked my worthy friend, the indefatigable John Owen, to 
extract the letter for me. 

" I will some of these days give a sketch of Edwin Butterworth's 
history, but at present I am able to add little new. I am always 
scribbnng something when not engaged as Hon. Sec. to the Lees and 
Hey Church Institute; superintending a hillside (Cottage) Sunday- 
school ; or other gratuitous labour. 

" I suppose you see the Reporter regularly, and if so, will have read 
the two articles on Clayton Hall. I am busy with a Glossary of the 
dialect of south-east Lancashire ; and a Chronology of the Chapelry 
of Oldham ; to say nothing about a new love, N. and Q., and my old 
sweetheart, the Reporter. 

" Reciprocating your good wishes, I am, dear sir, ever yours faith- 
fully, John Higson." 

In a previous letter Mr Higson thus makes interesting 
allusion to his youthful days, when he roamed, like 
Bloomfield, a,s a farmer's boy, and herded kye, like 
Robert Nicoll,. upon the healthful moorlands : — " I am 
also occasionally adding to my Lancashire Glossary, 

The Way Home. 29 1 

which has poached upon my leisure, ever since I tended 
my father's cows, thirty years ago." 

From yet older epistles, we are glad of the opportunity 
of culling a few more of Mr Higson's characteristic pas- 
sages : — " You will find me living underneath the shade 

of Droylsden Church If you are fond at all of 

country rambles and traditions, I should feel pleased 
with a Saturday afternoon's ramble in this neighbourhood 
and Gorton." " My acquaintance with the past events of 
this neighbourhood, without any boasting, is very consi- 
derable, and nothing gives me greater pleasure than in 
any way assisting a brother chip." "In the spring and 
summer I throw the steel (not quill) on one side, and 
take walks with our parson and ' cotter' in my garden." 

Mr Higson's memory has been honoured by a stained- 
glass window— subject, "The Faithful Servant" — placed 
on the north side of the chancel of Lees Field Church. A 
similar tribute has been paid to him at Droylsden Church ; 
the subject, " St John," being observable nearly opposite 
to Mr Higson's pew, on the north side. His headstone, 
in the graveyard, bears these words : — " Awaiting in hope 
the last great day, John Higson. Died December 13, 
1 87 1, aged forty-six years." 

Another searcher into our early Church history (Mr 
Owen) has had favourable opportunities for arriving at 
correct data. A few notes from his diary will throw 
additional light where a clearer view is most desirable : — 

" 1859, September. — During all the excavations, both in the yard 
and within the church, I looked very minutely for any evidence of 
Roman occupation (either in a summer camp or othei-wise), but 

292 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

nothing could be found— not fhe smallest fragment of pottery or tile, 
nor any Roman coins. Several other coins were discovered ; the 
most ancient, on being shown to Mr Harland, was conjectured to be 
an abbey piece. 

" 1861, June 6. — The sundial was lowered two feet. 

" 1862, February 11. — Commenced taking down the large north- 
east buttress. Found some old work, the most curious being part of 
a muUion of which there is no other example about the church. 

" 1863, March 23. — Commenced boarding the west end of the 
yard, preparatory to taking down the tower. 

" 1863, October 14. — The first stone of the new tower was laid 
to-day by Mr Holden, the architect. The stone is six feet by five, 
and about thirteen inches thick ; it was laid at the north-east angle- 
The other stones forming the bed are of similar size, being a great 
contrast to the rubble-and-clay foundation of the old tower. It seems 
to me that when the ancient foundation was dug, the four sides of a 
trench were excavated ; into this was laid the clay, apparently tem- 
pered ; rubble and boulder stones of all sizes and shapes were 
embedded in the clay up to the level of the ground surface, no mortar 
being used. In this mass of clay and rubble I found what I con- 
sidered to be the base of a gable cross. In the lower part of the 
tower many fragments of old work turned up — jambs of doorways 
and a portion of a window-sill without any moulding but a plain 
chamfer ; also a portion of window-arch, cusped and plain chamfered ; 
several fragments of round mouldings, probably belonging to a string- 
course, one specimen chamfered on the underside ; another, with 
roll or round moulding on two of its sides, had most likely been fixed 
in an angular position. The mouldings of the doorway belong to the 
Perpendicular period, while the lower part of the tower has more of 
a Decorated character about it. When the British Archaeological 
Association was in Manchester, Mr Ashpitel, in his address on the 
architecture of the Cathedral, mentioned a doorway under the tower, 
which he said must be one hundred years older than the time of the 
first warden. Mr Ashpitel made a section of the moulding of this 
doorway, and compared it with another which Mr Paley gave as 
positively of the date of 1330. Mr Ashpitel then 'passed to the 
extreme east end of the church, and there, at the Lady Chapel, he 
found the piers of the arch also of a positive Decorated character. 
From the peculiar form of the shafts of the piers and their fillets, 

The Way Home. 293 

they decidedly belonged to the period from 1330 to 135°, sixty or 
seventy years before Huntingdon was elected, or the church was made 
a collegiate church. It would be important for them to consider what 
stood upon the site before Huntingdon's church.' When the tower 
was pulled down, a great portion of the materials was piled in the 
yard and re-used as rubble for the new tower. One of the workmen, 
on breaking up a mass of old mortar, found it unusually hard, and 
perceiving something pecuhar in its composition, several of the men 
took portions as curiosities ; the remainder, I believe, went into the 
tower and was built up : there it perchance may, after another rest of 
many centuries' duration, again see the light of day. On paying my 
daily visit to the works, I saw one of these pieces of mortar, and 
being told where it had come from, said, ' This is neither more nor 
less than Roman mortar.' The occurrence brought to my mind what 
Leland, the topographer, says of Manchester in the reign of Henry 
the Eighth. Of the fort in Castle Field he thus writes : ' The stones 
of the ruin of this castle were translated towards making of bridges 
for the town.' It seems quite clear by the above discovery of mortar 
that the buUders of the old tower resorted for material to the older 
castle of the Romans, as weU as to the quarry at CoUyhurst. 

" 1867, September 30. — Put up the new tablet for Eleanor Byrom. 
During several days past the workmen have been engaged making 
an excavation under the east side of the Chapter-house. An old 
rubble wall is laid partially bare j it goes down to the gravel, whereas 
the foundations of the Chapter-house and the adjoining wall of the 
church do not go down so low by about four feet ; it extends under 
the Chapter-house from east to west, and projects about four feet 
southward beyond the line of the church foundation ; it is formed of 
large rubble stones, and is filled in with sand and small stones. 

" 187 1, February. — On removing the outer casing of the west wall 
of the porch several old mouldings were found, including about haJf-a- 
dozen portions of a lozenge mullion. These were ranged horizontally 
just under the upper window. We also found on the face of the wall 
four putlog-holes, which had been formed by the old masons for 
scaffolding. Below the base moulding a portion of a clustered column 
was turned out; but the best discovery was a piece of sculpture 
representing an angel, with wings partly expanded, and holding in 
both hands a scroll inscribed ; there is also an inscription to the left, 
but scarcely decipherable. The date of this relic — evidently repre- 

294 Memorials of Majtchester Streets.'^ 

senting the Annunciation — would be about the beginning of the 
thirteenth century. There has been a good bit of old work discovered 
lately, especially in the foundation of the west end of the south aisle ; 
indeed, the foundation, which was rubble, seemed to be composed 
almost entirely of old work, amongst which were jambs of windows 
and arch-mouldings in the Early English style, fully developed, as 
well as the plainer lancet window. A mutilated capital of the Early 
English period, and a couple of bases to match of the same style, 
were turned up ; within the wall of the present porch I found a por- 
tion of the shaft of a newell staircase. The present porch is built 
upon a more ancient basement, which formed the foundation of the 
entire south wall of the nave. When it was built there is no evi- 
dence to show, but from the fact that St Nicholas's or Trafford Chapel 
was in existence in 1349 (see ' History of the Chantries,' by Canon 
Raines), and that a portion of the south wall was pulled down to the 
basement to admit of the erection of that chapel, it must have been 
built some time before. We found some portions of Decorated tracery. 
As yet we have not discovered any Norman mouldings or carvings, 
but I think there can be no doubt the parts of round columns found 
here and there within the compass of the church walls belong to that 
period. The architect is of opinion that a church existed here in the 
Saxon times, and with that opinion I quite agree. The ancient south 
wall receded about four feet within the present chapels of St Nicholas 
and St George. The base line is not a concave moulding like what 
is seen around those chapels, but a simple splay exactly similar to the 
base line of the tower. 

" 1872, February. — In excavating under the choir for the erection 
of the new organ, a portion of the basement of the north side of the 
ancient chancel, which existed before the church was collegiated, was 
laid bare, exposing three courses of good ashlar masonry, .resting on 
a rubble foundation, the uppermost course being splayed, and consti- 
tuting the plinth of the ancient chancel ; above this were courses of 
more modern masonry. On the excavation reaching the south side 
of the choir we found the basement of the south wall of the chancel ; 
the masonry appeared to have more of an Early English character 
about it. The excavation here showed that when the old chancel 
was taken down, a portion of the foundation was taken out, sunk 
deeper, and a broader basement laid, on which rest the present 
columns and arches of the choir. Whether the ancient chancel was 

The Way Home. 295 

of two bays, or of three bays, the excavation was not carried suffici- 
ently far to show. The old chancel was the breadth of the present 
choir, and without aisles. During the excavation on the south side, 
some very elaborate arch-mouldings were found amongst the rubble 
— portions, no doubt, of the old chancel. If ever there was a wooden 
church at Manchester, it existed prior to the Norman Conquest ; for 
the numerous remains discovered, wherever the walls and foundation 
have been pierced, entirely negative the idea of a wooden structure at 
a more recent date, and show the existence at this spot of a handsome 
stone building — the St Mary's of Doomsday Book — long anterior to 
the present Cathedral church. 

" 1874, January 12. — I have seen and minutely examined the 
great barn at Ordsal, and I have no hesitation in saying that it never 
formed a part of Manchester or any other church, but was built as a 
barn, and for no other purpose. The great barns in connection with 
the ancient halls were generally constructed of a size necessitating the 
erection of rows of piUars to support the great breadth of roof, thus 
creating, so to speak, a sort of nave and side aisles, and resembling 
in some measure the plan of a church. This may account, to a 
certain extent, for the traditions connecting several of the old bams 
round Manchester with the ancient parish church. Some persons 
who have seen the moulded pillars and roof timbers in the hall at 
Ordsal imagine that they must have come from the old church at 
Manchester, but they are Late Perpendicular in style, and are allowed 
by competent judges not to be earUer than the commencement of the 
sixteenth century, and of course could not have been doing duty a 
century or so earlier in the old Church of St Mary's. Any one who 
has made the old halls of Lancashire and Cheshire his study will see 
at once that the ornamental and moulded timbers at Ordsal formed 
what was called the great hall, and being open to the rafters, made 
what is called an open timber roof. The principals are connected by 
other timbers, forming arches with the tie-beams crenelated, so that 
there is little difference between the roof at Ordsal and that of an old 
church. The timbers of the great hall are now in a great measure 
concealed by the floors which have been inserted, and by a number 
of bedrooms which have been formed by the introduction of party- 
walls. These timbers, which are mostly concealed in the cocklofts, 
on being closely examined, bear evidence of being encased in hardened 
soot, showing that at an early period the hall was warmed by a fire 

296 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

placed probably in the centre of the floor. The smoke would be 
allowed to struggle upwards through the roof timbers and escape by 
means of a louvre." 

Here endeth our survey of Manchester's premier place 
of worship, together with its graveyard and its manifold 

If, as recent movements would indicate, the venerable 
pile will one day fall a sacrifice to the modern spirit of 
innovation, we may be allowed to hope that the day is 
far distant. Many residents of Manchester, and "forty 
miles round" (borrowing a phrase from Dr Aikin), can 
trace the origin of their family ties to " The Old Church," 
and consequently revere its font, its altar, its graves. 
Such residents will naturally regret the severance of life- 
long associations when the ancient temple of worship 
shall be razed, and when, in the words of the Psalmist, 
" the wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and the place 
thereof shall know it no more." 





By James Crossley, F.S.A. 

The causes which give us pleasure in visiting any parti- 
cular place are various, and sometimes very opposite. 
We do not exactly mean that pleasure produced by 
association of ideas, by the connection or relationship of 
the scenes we are entering upon to former times, persons, 
or events, but that satisfaction which arises from other 
trains of thought, more immediate and less abstracted in 
their deduction. Is there not, for instance, in the first 
sight of St Peter's at Rome, apart from the effect pro- 
duced by its striking magnificence, a delightful thrill of 
pleasure to meet with such an edifice in such a situation .' 
Yet what affinity has St Peter's to the temples or the 
Coliseum, or what has the dome of a Christian church to 
do near the Columna Trajana, or the Arch of Constantine ? 
It is manifestly out of place ; it awakes no ideas assimi- 
lating to those connected with the absorbing interest of 

300 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

its city ; yet still its effect is undiminished in communi- 
cating to the mind of the beholder a throbbing sensation 
of delight. There is something, in fact, of surprise and 
unexpectedness in the sudden change of objects, a sur- 
prise gradually converted into pleasure as we trace more 
intimately the relation between them, which rouses, 
quickens, and cheers us. A new vein of thought unex- 
pectedly crosses and intermingles with the old one, and 
introduces with it fresh subjects for contemplation, and 
new sources of entertainment. The mind cannot dwell 
long on any particular train of thought without expe- 
riencing somewhat of jaded satiety, and therefore it is 
refreshed and invigorated by approaching some sparkling 
and unhoped-for fountain of joy. Who is not delighted 
to meet in a place utterly barren and unpromising with 
something akin to his habits, and congenial to his pur- 
suits } We well remember one of the most pleasurable 
moments of our life was in a sudden rencontre we once 
met with in London — the remains of King Richard's 
Chapel, in Crosby Court. Surrounded by warehouses 
and counting-houses, itself now converted into a packing- 
room, this venerable relic of antiquity, with its stone 
stairs and Gothic window, struck us with a force we shall 
never forget. We seemed in a second to have slipped 
from modern times to the days of him at whose birth 
"the owl shrieked, the night-crow cried, a boding luckless 
time." And the satisfaction we felt was raised in propor- 
tion to our surprise. Such a revulsion in the current of 
our ideas always carries with it poignancy and relish. We 
lose the pleasure of expectation in instantaneous enjoy- 
ment, which that very loss makes more keen. In short, 

On the Chetham Library. 301 

to know what pleasure is, we ought to meet with the 
thing which of all others we most want, in the place 
where of all others we least expect to find it. The man 
who, after journeying over the desert, finds at last, in its 
most arid track, a spring of fresh water, and our great 
Moralist, after meeting in a Highland cottage with 
Gataker's "Treatise on Lots," would both concur in 
assuring us that life has few greater sweeteners than the 
sudden and unannounced possession of that which is least 
expected, though most desired. 

We were led into these speculations by a late visit 
to the library founded by Humphrey Chetham, in 
Manchester; a venerable and praiseworthy institution, 
which is rendered more striking by its presenting some- 
what of the appearance of a college amidst the hurry 
and business which are always visible in a large manu- 
facturing town. It is pleasing to pass from the noise and 
dissonance of a crowded street into the comparatively 
still and silent court of a spacious antique mansion, with 
low-browed roofs and narrow windows, apparently of the 
architecture of the sixteenth century, where the only 
habitants seem to be a little population of boys, in their 
grotesque liveries, according well with their ancient domi- 
cile. To feel that there is such a place amidst warehouses, 
factories, and shops, is some satisfaction, as it shows you 
are not completely immersed in trade and calculation, but 
that there is still amidst wool-shops and cotton-rooms a 
little Zoar set apart for better things. As you enter the 
door leading towards the library, from the court on the 
left, you are struck with a spacious and lofty hall — whose 
appearance reminds you of ancient feasts and old English 

302 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

hospitality — ^which is now appropriated as the dining-room 
of the children who are educated by the bounty of the 
founder. You proceed up a flight of stone stairs to the 
library, where the books are disposed in compartments, 
secured by wires from the encroachments of the profane ; 
above and around which grin crocodiles, "harpies, and 
chimeras dire," assimilating wonderfully with the other 
furniture of the place. If you be anxious to learn what 
these portentous things are, and to be made acquainted 
with the various curiosities of the place, you must be 
content to listen auribus patulis, to the dulcet modula- 
tion of one of the children aforesaid ; though we should 
ourselves advise other visitants, so far from employing 
these juvenile nomenclators, to make use of the precau- 
tions of Ulysses on entering the place, but not exactly 
for the same reason. Dr Ferrier, however, used, we 
believe, to recommend the song of these young sirens in 
certain disorders of the tympanum. As you pass along 
the two galleries, plentifully stored with the physic of the 
soul, to the reading-room, you cannot but perceive that 
their contents are not much similar to those of a modern 
circulating library. Dapper duodecimos give place to the 
venerable majesty of the folio. If you look among the 
shelves, you will find, instead of the Scotch novels or 
Anastasius, Wagensal's " Tela Ignea " or the works of 
Erasmus. It is not the library of a modern dilettante, but 
of an English scholar of the old school, in which Aquinas 
and Duns Scotus may yet be seen, and by them their 
worthy brothers Durandus, Bradwardine, and Bonaventura. 

" De Lyra here a dreadful front extends. 
And there the groaning shelves Philemon bends." 

On the Chetham Library. 303 

Mr Urban, the venerable father of Magazines^ here 
still retains his place from prescription as alone worthy 
amongst periodicals to enter into such society. We do 
not wish to dispossess him, but we really think that 
Blackwood should take his station by the Fathers. We 
admit he is but a Neotoric, and totally unworthy of 
such worshipful neighbours; yet surely the perspica- 
cious visage of George Buchanan should of itself secure 
him admittance amongst his compeers. It constitutes 
a talisman to which, we are sure, a scholar like Mr 
Allen will have respect. 

There is something very substantial in the appearance 
of a library of this description. Everything evidently 
shows that its contents are more for use than show. No 
flaunting and gaudy-coloured bindings appear among 
the plain, brown, and Quaker-like contents of its shelves. 
The Platonic lover of books, the admirer of exteriors, 
must go elsewhere for his gratification. There is, too, a 
pleasing consonancy between the place and its furniture. 
The oaken panels and plain woodwork would ill assort 
with morocco backs and gilt edges, and all those out- 
ward vanities which make the books of the present time 
appear like painted sepulchres, from the glitter without 
and the emptiness within. Equality reigns amongst the 
folios and duodecimos, and has clad the books with the 
same impartiality that death has levelled the authors. 
Nothing interposes to weaken or destroy the general 
effect of the place. All within it contributes to with- 
draw us to the past. The mind is left here to resign 
itself to its own fancies, without being recalled by some 
startling incongruity to the recollections of the present ; 

304 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and for aught which strikes us in the rapidity of a first 
impression, we might imagine it the spot where Bacon 
was accustomed to study, and where Raleigh delighted 
to muse. 

It is impossible to enter a large library, especially when 
in appearance so antique as the one of which we are now 
writing, without feeling an inward sensation of reverence, 
and without catching some sparks of noble emulation 
from the mass of mind which is scattered around you. 
The very dullest and least intellectual of the sons of 
earth must be conscious of the high and lofty society 
into which he is intruding — a society which no combina- 
tion of living talent can ever hope to parallel. Before 
such a tribunal, before such a galaxy of intellect and 
learning, the haughty Aristarch himself might have doffed, 
without degradation, " the hat which never vailed to 
human pride." We feel, as we reverence the mighty 
spirits around us, that we are in some sort their brothers ; 
and the very homage which we pay to their majesty is 
itself the bond of our alliance. What spectacle besides 
can be more wonderful } We are then where the human 
mind is displayed in its highest flights, and in its weakest 
inanity ; in all its shades and variations of feeling or of 
subtilty ; in all its walks through science, and the cycle 
of its thousand intelligences ; and in all its wide diffusion 
over the provinces and principalities of its empire, calling 
into action, and bringing forth its powers, like the unsheath- 
ing of weapons from their scabbards ; in its acuteness, sub- 
tilising to infinity; in its solidity, laying foundations of 
enduring and immovable strength ; in its apprehension, 
receiving all the stores of learning and knowledge ; in 

On the Chetham, Library. 305 

its penetration, pervading with a glance the worlds of 
thought and science ; in its profundity, diving into depths 
forbidden, and denied to its nature ; and in its imagination 
creating, inventing, and producing in measure, inexhaus- 
tible and unspent ; now marching onward with proud and 
triumphant steps, now halting in its course with feeble 
tardiness — now deviating into byroads struck out by 
its own admirable ingenuity, yet still ever great in its 
extravagances, dignified in its perversions, memorable in 
its debasement. 

Others may delightedly visit in veneration the tombs 
of authors, but to us their noblest mausoleum appears 
to be in a library where they are enshrined amongst a 
company of kindred and congenial souls. The one can 
but testify their mortality, but he who meets them in 
the other will know they are immortal. Westminster 
Abbey can present nothing so touching, yet so elevating, 
so inspiring, yet so sad, as the Bodleian. There we see 
works which have outlived monuments and pyramids, 
still surviving to the glory of their authors in unspent 
and undiminished youth. Others we see, for which their 
writers, the martyrs of fame, have suffered mental tor- 
ment and bodily maceration, and all to subsist "like 
Hippocrates's patients, and Achilles's horses in Homer, 
under naked nominations," and occupy, untouched and 
unregarded, a corner in a library. Others which, after 
experiencing in their time a meed of rigid indifference 
and neglect, have now obtained Kxiy/ta es aet in the rolls 
of Fame ; and others the delight and admiration of their 
contemporaries, which now remain but to teach us the 

instructive lesson, that — 


3o6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" When Fame's loud trump hath blown her deepest blast, 
Though loud the sound, the echo dies at last ; 
And Glory, like the phcenix 'midst her fires, 
Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires." 

Many are the lofty and gratifying thoughts and con- 
templations which a visit to a library will give rise to. 
It is there where the mind wakes into a consciousness of 
its own powers and capabilities, and burns to measure its 
strength with the heroes of literature, the mighty masters 
of science. It is there that the appetite for knowledge, 
which, however it may lie dormant awhile, can never be 
entirely extinguished, sharpens and increases in beholding 
the food for which it longs, and prepares for a full and 
plenary enjoyment of the exhaustless banquet before it. 
It is there that the soul expands with a consciousness of 
the task it has to overcome, and the matter it has to 
grapple with ; and rises with proud and confident superi- 
ority to the mastery of knowledge in all her cells. It is 
there that one feels a desire to shut out the world and 
its concerns, and live like Magliabecchi in the Vatican, 
buried in books, to contract an intimacy with every one of 
the thousands of writers deposited in its shelves — poets, v v v 
orators, historians, philosophers, and divines, and receive 
all their stores of thought and science, though but as the 
water which passes through the urns of the Danaides. It 
is there that the painful feeling of the impossibility of 
satisfying the wishes of the soul is lately and reluctantly 
acknowledged ; and it is there we should be almost led, 
were it not for the hope of the fruition of our desires in a 
future state, to deem that inexplicable and unassuageable 
craving after knowledge, which is implanted in our natures, 

On the Chetkam Lzdrary. 307 

to be given us but as a cruel mockery and tantalising 

But to return to our subject-matter. From the library 
you pass into the reading-room, not, however, without 
having to encounter a formidable array of sights and 
monsters, more grotesque even than those which appalled 
the stout heart of the Trojan prince in his descent to hell. 
There are seals and hairy men, speaking-trumpets and 
snakes, and fishes and alligators, and " such small deer," 
not forgetting skeletons preserved in bottles, and Oliver 
Cromwell's sword. This last great acquisition, now laid up 
in peace, may, indeed, exclaim that Time has made it 
acquainted with strange bedfellows. Yet it is considered 
a trophy of no small consequence in the place. Many a 
stare of vacant wonderment has been directed to it by the 
rustics, in their holiday visitations ; and even the juvenile 
stentors before alluded to, in doling out the bead-roll of 
their chantings, attest its high importance by a propor- 
tionate exaltation of voice. Through a door studded with 
nails in the ancient fashion, you pass into the reading- 
room, an antique apartment, with oaken casements, massive 
chairs of such heaviness and contexture as utterly to 
defy all muscular power, and tables of make and work- 
manship truly patriarchal, one of which, you are informed 
by your guide, is composed of as many pieces as there are 
days in a year — three hundred and sixty-five. Around are 
disposed dusky-looking portraits of eminent divines who 
have been born in or near Manchester — ^Whitaker, Nowell,* 

* It is not, perhaps, generally known that we owe the original of bottled 
ale to the person who compiled the famous catechism. Thus, however, 
relateth one of his biographers : "Without offence, it may be remembered, 

3o8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Bolton, and Bradford, of the latter of whom the facetious 
Fuller saith, " He was a most holy and mortified man, who 
secretly in his closet would so weep for his sins, one would 
have thought he would never have smiled again, and then 
appearing in public, he would be so harmlessly pleasant, 
one would think he had never wept before." No such 
marks of celestial benignity are here visible in his counte- 
nance ; he looks truly as grim-visaged as Herod himself in 
the " Massacre of the Innocents." Over the fireplace, sur- 
ijnounted by his coat-of-arms, is the portrait of Humphrey 
Chetham himself, the charitable "dealer in Manchester 
commodities," as he has been called, to whose beneficence 
this excellent institution is owing. Fashions and manners 
have wonderfully changed. What would the spruce and 
dapper warehousemen of the present day think of such an 
apparition, were they to see him passing down Cannon 
Street ; or what would their masters, to hear of a Man- 
chester merchant who exercised himself in the reading of 
godly divines.' He appears, indeed, a marvellous staid 
personage, somewhat like the old man in Terence — 

" Confidens catus — 
Tristis severitas inest in vultu.'' 

The windows in this room are in unison with the rest of 
its structure, and though they do not absolutely " exclude 
the light," yet there is a certain degree of dimness in it, 
which does not ill-agree with the dark panels and beams 
by which it is encased and overhung. At the further end 

that leaving a bottle of ale, when fishing, in the grass, he found it some days 
afterwards no bottle but a gun, such the sound at the opening thereof." And 
this is believed (Casualty is mother of more invention than Industry) the 
origin of bottled ale in England, 

On the Chetham Library. 309 

is a recess, which being almost windowed round, is ren- 
dered a little lightsomer than the other parts of the room. 
It is pleasant to sit in this sequestered nook, the locus 
lenedictus of this ancient place, and view from thence the 
gallery with its shelves of books, sinking by degrees into 
duskiness, or to watch from the window the little crowd 
below, performing their evolutions in no very silent key, 
and to listen, while the sun strikes on the oaken table 
before you, to the chimes of the Collegiate Church, falling 
full and audible on the ear. Still pleasanter is it to resign 
the mind to those fantasies which, in a place like this, are 
wont to rise and steal upon it with a soft but potent 
fascination, and to suffer the imagination to raise up its 
visions of the worthies of the olden time. To embody 
and impersonate our forefathers, while we are tarrying in 
their edifice ; and while we are drinking " at the pure wells 
of English undefiled," to picture to ourselves the worthies 
who stood and guarded at its fountain. To create and 
call forth figures for our sport, like those in the " Tempest," 
airy and unsubstantial, clad in ruffs and doublets, and 
passing by us with stiff mien and haughty stateliness ; 
introducing to our eyes a succession of " maskings, mum- 
meries, entertainments, jubilees, tilts and tournaments, 
trophies, triumphs, and plays," till we can see the whole 
court of Elizabeth, — the graceful Sir Christopher Hatton 

" Lead the brawls. 
While seals and maces dance before him." 

We are transported visibly to the times when the 
" Euphues " and the " Arcadia " were the light reading of 
maids of honour, when queens harangued universities in 

3 1 o Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Latin, and kings amused themselves by writing of de- 
monology and tobacco. The theological tomes around 
us seem to communicate something of their influence 
to us, and to dip us " five fathom deep " in the contro- 
versies of the times. We can almost join with alacrity 
in the crusade against the Beast, " who had filled the 
world with her abominations," and sally out with bishops 
for our leaders, and a ponderous folio for our armour of 

The works around us naturally bring their authors 
before our eyes. We can see Hooker in his quiet country 
parsonage, beholding " God's blessings spring out of his 
mother earth, and eating his own bread in peace and 
privacy." We can see Sidney amongst the shades of 
Penshurst writing on poetry, with all the enthusiasm of a 
poet, and proving that " poesie is full of virtue, breeding 
delightfulness, and void of no gift that ought to'^be in the 
noble name of learning." We can see Bacon in his closet, 
conceiving in his mighty mind the greatest birth of time, 
and, unbent by misfortune, and undejected by disgrace, 
illuminating philosophy "with all the weight of matter, 
worth of subject, soundness of argument, life of invention, 
and depth of judgment." We can see Selden amidst bulls, 
breviats, antiphoners, and monkish manuscripts, laying up 
the stores of his vast learning, and awaiting from pos- 
terity the rewards which were denied him by a prejudiced 
clergy. We can be present with Burton, whilst enjoying 
he delights of voluntary solitariness, and walking alone in 
some grove, between wood and water, by a brook-side, to 
meditate upon some delightsome subject, and hear him 
declaring in ecstasy, "What an incomparable delight it is 

On the Chetham Library. 311 

so to melancholise and build castles in the air ! " And last, 
though second to none of his contemporaries, we can be 
witness to the lonely musings of him "who, untamed in 
war, and indefatigable in literature, as inexhaustible in 
ideas as exploits, after having brought a new world to 
light, wrote the history of the old in a prison." 

Of all human enjoyments, the pleasure of intercourse 
with antiquity is the most complete. The past is in itself 
a treasure. The same feeling which leads us back to the 
pleasing recollections of infancy, carries us still further 
along the mighty waste of time. The intenseness of per- 
sonal acquaintance can hardly exceed that vivid reality 
which is produced by the combination of history and 
fancy. Like young Harry Bertram breathing the air of 
Ellangowan, we seem in our intercourse with ancient times 
and personages to be entering upon a theatre known to us 
in some former stage of existence, and it dawns upon us 
with the dim but delightful shadowiness of a long-inter- 
posed acquaintance. The readiness with which we array and 
furnish, with the incidents of living beings, the inhabitants 
of the silent grave, and the scarcely questionable air of life 
and existence which we can throw around their appear- 
ance, would almost induce us to believe that our imagina- 
tions can hardly be baseless and empty, and that the 
forms which are suggested by our fancy must have been 
cast originally in the moulds of memory. Our knowledge, 
in truth, seems, according to the Platonic doctrine, but 
remembrance, and our new impressions but "the colour- 
ing of old stamps, which stood pale in the soul before." 
There is something in " hoar antiquity " itself wonderfully 
striking. Much it has of mild interest, but more of awe 

312 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and sublimity. The alternation of light and shade by 
which it is chequered, like a plain, which in one part glows 
with the beams of the sun, and in another is darkened by 
an interposed cloud ; the rolling of the mighty current of 
years, mouldering and destroying empires and citadels ; 
" the dim indistinction with which all things are lapt in the 
bundle of time ; " the vast distance which the eye aches to 
measure ; the memorable actions, achievements, persons, 
and places, which it has covered as if with a shroud ; the 
wonderful intermixture it presents of savageness and 
refinement, of brutality and wisdom, of atrocity and 
magnanimity, of poverty and splendour, of high aspiration 
and grovelling debasement, must contribute to make it a 
pageant varied, magnificent, and imposing* Is there not 

* The following curious recapitulation of the events of ancient 
history is taken from Richard Carpenter's " Experience, History, and 
Divinitie." It is very striking, and not, perhaps, generally known. 
The author was twice a Protestant, and twice a Papist, and ended, we 
believe, like Gibbon, with being nothing at all : " This world hath 
bin alwayes a passenger ; for, it hath passed from age to age, through 
so many hundred generations, by them, and from them to us. Adam 
lived awhile, to eat an apple and to teach his posterity to sinne and 
to dye ; and the world passed by him. Caine lived awhile, to kill 
his honest brother Abel, and to bury him in the sands, as if God 
could not have found him, or the winde have discovered what was 
done, and afterwards to be haunted with frightful apparitions, and to 
be the first vagabond ; and the world passed by him. Noah lived 
awhile, to see a great flood, and the whole world sinke under water ; 
to see the weary birds drop amongst the waves, and men stifled on 
the tops of trees and mountaines ; and the world passed by him. 
David lived awhile, to be caught with a vaine representation, and to 
commit adultery ; to command murther, and afterwards to lament, 
and call himselfe sinner ; and when he had done so, the world shuffed 

On the Che t ham Library. 313 

something in the very names of Nimrod and Cambyses, of 
Babylon, Tyre, and Carthage, of Sidon and Thebes, of 
Assaracus, Herostratus, and Achilles, which strikes the 
mind with a sensation which no words can explain ? Do 
we not feel, on seeing the pyramids, arches, obelisks, and 
monuments of other times, a something which is inexpli- 
cable and incommunicable, but composed, nevertheless, of 
all the noblest elements of the soul, of what in admiration 
is most fervent, in pity most deep, in imagination most 
intense, in contemplation most sublime ? There is a 
pleasure, an intellectual zest, a high and genial delight 

him off, and passed by him. Solomon Kved awhile, to sit like a man 
upon his royaU throne, as it were guarded with lyons ; and to love 
counterfeit pictures in the faces of strange women j and while he was 
looking babies in their eyes, the world stole away and passed by King 
Solomon, and all his glory. Judas lived awhile, to handle a purse ; 
and, as an old author writes, to kill his father, to marry his mother, to 
betray his master, and to hang himself; and the world turned round 
as well as he, and passed by the traytor. The Jews lived awhile, to 
crucify him who had chosen them for his onely people out of all the 
world, and quickly after the world, weary of them, passed by them, 
and their commonwealth. The old Romanes lived awhile, to worship 
wood and stones, to talk a little of Jupiter, Apollo, Venus, Mercury, 
and to gaze upon a great statue of Hercules, and cry, hee was a 
mighty man ; and while they stood gazing and looking another way, 
the world passed by them and their great empire. The Papists lived 
awhile, to keepe time with dropping beads, or rather to lose it ; to 
tell most wonderfull stories of miracles, and in the midst of a story, 
the world passes by them, and turnes them into a story. The Jesuits 
live awhile, to be called religious men and holy fathers ; to frame a 
face, to be very good and godly in the outside ; to vex and disquiet 
princes ; and the world at length finding them to be dissem^blers, 
dissembles with them also, and looking friendly upon them, passes 
by them." 

3 1 4 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and enjoyment in such a scene, which once conceived, we 
cannot ever permit to be forgotten. What are the visions 
of the future to meditations so produced ? They may 
interest our human feelings more, but can they fill, occupy, 
and expand the mind like those of the past ? The pro- 
spective creatures of fancy may for awhile float before 
our eyes, and dazzle us with their glittering hues and 
glowing brilliancy; but they all die away, decay and 
vanish before that deeper, grander, most potent and 
efficacious spirit of imagination, which broods over the 
magnificence of the past, which resides amidst the marble 
wastes of Tadmor and the " mighty nations of the dead," 
which gives even to the future a more vivid lustre from its 
reflection, and which is, in fine, that eternal and inex- 
haustible fountain from which History catches her colour- 
ing and Poetry lights her flame. 

But we have involuntarily strayed from our subject, 
and it is now time for us to conclude. If thy footsteps 
lead thee, good reader, to the venerable place which has 
suggested these speculations, let us advise thee to amuse 
thyself with something suitable, and not incongruous with 
its character. There is a fitness in all things. There are 
other places for perusing the ephemeral productions of the 
day — circulating libraries for novels, and commercial rooms 
for newspapers. If these be the food for which thy mind 
is most disposed, to such places be thy walks confined. 
But go not to the library of Humphrey Chetham without 
opening one of the " time-honoured guests." If classical 
learning be the study most gratifying to thy palate, take 
down the Basil edition of Horace, with the notes of eighty 
commentators, and read through the commentaries on the 

On the Chetham Library. 315 

first ode, thou wilt find it no very easy or despatchable 
matter. If divinity be thy pursuit, let one of the compen- 
dious folios of Caryl on Job minister to thy amusement, and 
thus conduce to thy attainment of that virtue of which Job 
was so eminently the possessor. If natural history pre- 
sent more attractions to thee than classical learning or 
divinity, Ulysses Aldrovandus will find thee employment 
enough, without resorting to the later publications of 
Pennant or Buffon. But should thy thoughts, good reader, 
have a different direction, and all these studies be less 
agreeable to thee than the study of light reading, take 
with thee Pharamond to thy corner, or that edifying and 
moral work Mat. Ingelo's " Bentivoglio and Urania ; " 
and so needest thou have no fear of being too violently 
interested in thy subject to leave off with pleasure. What 
is that deep and forcible interest which chains you to a 
book, to the delightful equability to be enjoyed in the 
perusal of works like these .■' There is, too, another 
advantage. You cannot get through them too soon. 
How often do we feel, in perusing the Scotch novels, the 
unpleasant reflection that we are getting nearer the end — 
the end of our book and the end of our pleasure. Here, 
however, the reader may range secure, undisturbed by any 
such unpleasant anticipations. But if, on the contrary, 
thou visitest the Chetham Library as a menagerie, spec- 
tacle, and show, as a collection of snakes, skeletons, 
porpoises, and crocodiles ; or if thou enterest it in the 
same manner, and for the same purposes, as thou wouldst 
enter a lounging-room or a fashionable bookseller's shop, 
then, though we will not wish unto thee the ass's ears of 
Midas, or those other calamities which are mentioned by 

3i6 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the eloquent defender of poetry, yet "thus much curse" 
must we send thee on behalf of the founder, that thou 
mayest be confined amongst the productions of the 
Minerva press, and be kept on prison allowance till thou 
hast read them through. 


By James Croston, F.S.A. 

It has been said that the history of a nation is but a 
record of the actions of its people — unfortunately, but too 
often a record of " the pride and pomp and circumstance 
of war," describing with graphic detail wars that have 
desolated the earth, and crimes that have disgraced 
humanity ; and exalting, at the expense of public virtue, 
the actions of ambitious warriors and intriguing statesmen, 
until, with a preposterous joy and guilty admiration, we 
are led to exult in the successes of the one, and revere the 
memory of the other. But we should ever remember that 

" Peace hath her victories, 
Not less renowned than war," 

and much as we may delight to dwell on the memories 
of those who have exhibited wisdom or capacity in the 
senate, or courage and decision in the field, we regard with 
feelings of equal if not greater veneration those illustrious 
worthies who, if they have played a less prominent part, 
have occupied a not less useful position in the drama 
of life, and who still live among us in the record of their 
lives, bequeathing to posterity an enduring source of good 

3 1 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

in the bright examples they afford of all that is true and 
honourable and manly in character, and of those moral 
and social virtues which alike adorn and ennoble our 
common nature— examples that beam with a celestial 
splendour, comforting, cheering, and encouraging the 
labourer in the cause of humanity and civil progress. The 
history of our country is studded over as " with patines of 
bright gold " with such illustrious examples, and we are 
not sure whether it is not more in the lives of England's 
Worthies than in the lives of England's Warriors that we 
may discover the true secret of England's greatness ; in 
them we see, as vital realities, the principles by which 
society is moved and the energies it wields gathered 
together and in active operation. 

Though our good old town may not be able to count 
among her sons many who have achieved historic great- 
ness, yet if we look back along the dim vista of antiquity, 
we shall find a long line of illustrious worthies, of whom 
we may be justly proud — men who have been eminent for 
their wisdom and courage and benevolence — who have 
acquired undying fame by their learning and scientific 
attainments, and who, under God's providence, have not 
only been instrumental in raising to a proud pre-eminence 
the place in which they dwelt, but have been in a great de- 
gree the architects of their country's greatness. It is some- 
times worth while to " remember the days of old," and to 
cast our thoughts back to the times of the generations that 
are past ; and although in the retrospect there may be 
much that we must deprecate and condemn, we shall find 
much also that is morally good and dear and honoured to 
our every feeling of existence. In the contemplation of 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 3 1 9 

those flashes of glorious heroism and those ennobling 
virtues which will ever and anon present themselves to our 
gaze, we may be led not only to cherish more and more 
the memory of our ancestors, and to love the habitations 
where they dwelt, but an increased desire may be awakened 
in us to emulate whatever is good and noble and praise- 
worthy in their character, and to imitate that earnestness 
of spirit which is ever seeking for new fields of moral 
victory, so that we may continue to the youth of succeed- 
ing ages that bright example of good works and faith in 
humanity's moral and physical progress which they have 
bequeathed to us. 

We shall endeavour to incorporate with our little gos- 
siping biographies a few verbal delineations of ancient 
Manchester, so that while we make acquaintance with 
some of these old local celebrities, we may realise in some 
degree the scenes in which they lived and moved and had 
their being, and so trace the gradual progress and improve- 
ment of our good old town from the few rude wattled huts 
of the aboriginal Britons, to the vast aggregation of mills 
and workshops and palatial buildings that the world calls 
Manchester. And here we must ask the reader to forget 
the present, and go back with us in imagination for a period 
of wellnigh two thousand years. The vision, it is true, is 
only shadowy and indistinct, seen through the long dis- 
tance that intervenes ; but carrying the mind back to those 
remote regions of antiquity, let us contemplate the scene 
that meets our fancied view. It is Manchester — Man- 
chester in the darkest period of its history. The Medlock, 
now an unpolluted stream, glides pleasantly along, and 
near to its confluence with the Irwell there rises a steep 

320 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

rocky bank, on the summit of which is a space of some 
twelve or thirteen acres that has been cleared from the 
surrounding forest ; a rampart bounds the north side, and 
on the west it is protected by a deep ditch, while the river 
forms a natural barrier on the south. The thick forest of 
Ardven or Arden affords an ample shelter from the incle- 
ment winds of the north, and in the opposite direction it is 
open to the genial influences of the southern sun, — local 
advantages that appear to have been generally recognised 
by the ancient Britons in the construction of their camps. 

Within the area a few huts, rudely constructed of mud 
and wattles, and covered with the skins of beasts, bear 
evidence of man's existence, and in these we recognise the 
old British town oi Maneettion, the place of tents ox place of 
encampment, the precursor of a city destined in after-ages 
to become the metropolis of industry, the workshop of the 
world. As we look more closely into the picture, we 
discern the naked woad-stained forms of the early settlers 
— men tall in stature and savage in mien, with rough skins 
thrown across their shoulders, and their long yellow hair 
streaming loosely down their backs; ardent, imaginative, 
brave ; armed with javelin and spear, spurning all con- 
trol, and despising every exercise save that of the chase 
or the battle-field. Dense forests of oak — primeval mon- 
archs that have budded and flourished and shed their 
leaves through centuries of silent solitude — stretch away 
on every hand, the haunt of the wolf* and the wild boar; 
and instead of the cheerful hum of industry, and the din 
of machinery, a death-like silence prevails, broken only 
at intervals by the sound of the huntsman tracking his 
prey through the thick undergrowth, or pursuing the 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 3 2 1 

chase along the echoing banks of the Irk, the Irwell, or 
the Medlock. 

" Hunter and warrior, here he comes ! a form 
Browned by the sun, and battered by the storm ; 
A spear his weapon, and a skin his vest ; 
His home a cave hewn in the mountain's breast. 
His mate, more melancholy, if less wild. 
Bearing upon her back their unclad child. 
Through the woods gliding, cautiously and slow, 
They pick the scanty fruitage as they go. 
At length upon the river's brink they part. 
For, lo ! his eye tracks far the startled hart ; 
And with a shout, a bound, its mazy flight 
He follows fast, and keeps it still in sight. 
At first the dale they scour, then climb the hill, 
'Neath the bright burning noonday panting still ; 
And on the morrow he returns to tell 
How twilight and his spear together fell 
Upon his prey remote, by some lone forest well." 

But a change comes over the spirit of the dream, 
Gradually the view dissolves and slowly fades away. 
Another dawns upon the scene. A sound of distant strife 
breaks faintly upon the ear, there is a rumbling of war- 
chariots and the hollow tramp of legidnaries ; in a moment 
the scene is alive with the forms of men hurrying to and 
fro, brandishing their javelins in impatient haste to meet 
the coming foe. Meanwhile the conquering eagles of 
imperial Rome are seen advancing, cohort follows cohort, 
and legion succeeds to legion ; with steady pace and 
measured tread they come. There is a shock of mortal 
combat, the echoing clang of arms and the fell shout of war. 
Briton and Roman are struggling together for conquest 
and for life. It is over — undisciplined valour yields to 

superior military skill, and the brave and heroic Britons, 


32 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

defeated but not subdued, are compelled to retire within 
the fastnesses of their native woods, leaving the rocky 
slopes of the Medlock crimsoned with the life-blood of a 
people who, if they knew not how to fight, knew at least 
how valiant men should die. 

The earlier invasions of the Caesars scarcely affected the 
northern tribes, and it was not until about the year 78 that 
Agricola succeeded in carrying the Roman arms to those 
parts of Britain which had not as yet been brought in 
subjection to the imperial rule. With the summer of that 
year terminated the British period of Mancenion! s history. 

The Romans, after an obstinate struggle, possessed 
themselves of the town, and placed in it a garrison of 
foreign auxiliaries — a cohort raised in Friesland — ^with a 
vexillatio or cavalry troop of Rhaetian and Norician 
auxiliaries. The newcomers, casting aside the sword and 
buckler, at once set about erecting from the old materials 
a fortress on the Roman plan, some fragmentary remains 
of which may still be seen on what is known as Castlefield. 
Military ways were formed, and several subordinate forts 
were erected for the protection of cattle in the outlying 
districts, and the better securitj'- of convoys upon the roads. 
Traces of these forts may still be discerned at Hyle Wood, 
near Castle Irwell, in Lower Broughton ; at Castle Hill, on 
the left-hand side of the road, near Singleton Brook ; at a 
place called Raineshow, on Kersal Moor ; and at a spot a 
little above the Grovq Inn, on the Bury New Road, the site 
of which is still recalled by the names of Camp Street and 
Roman Road Terrace. Other stations or castra were 
established on the banks of the Mersey at Stockport and 

Old Manchester andits Worthies. 323 

Agricola, having subjugated the half-savage dwellers of 
the ancient Mancenion, became a pacificator and lawgiver, 
and taught them arts and civilisation. Roman manners 
and customs were more or less adopted, and with them, it 
is to be feared, vices of which before our Celtic forefathers 
knew not of. To check the spirit of independence kept 
alive in the uncivilised abodes of deserted forests, the con- 
quered were invited to leave their retreats in the woods 
and swamps, and to form themselves into little communi- 
ties around the Roman station ; and in this way a colony- 
sprang up on the north side of the old settlement, which 
received the name of Aldport, or the Old Town, the site 
of which is still recalled by the name of Alport-town, in 

Mancenion now received the Latinised appellation of 
Mancunium or Mamucium. All the trades necessary for 
supplying the wants of the new occupiers were carried on 
in the vicinity- of the station. A water-mill was erected 
on the rocky channel of the Medlock at Knot Mill ; that 
requisite, a commune furnum, or common bakehouse, was 
established ; and it is supposed that a pottery was also 
in existence, many sepulchral vessels and other remains, 
apparently of local manufacture, having been discovered 
in the locality. Many relics of the period of Roman occu- 
pation have been dug up within the present century ; and 
amongst them the exceedingly beautiful bronze statuette 
of Jupiter Stator, an engraving of which is given on another 

For wellnigh four hundred years the Roman wrought 
and ruled in Britain, leaving the distinctive peculiarities of 
his way of living and governing stamped upon the country. 

324 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

But destiny had other things in store, and the proud and 
unwieldy Empire of Rome, having performed its part in 
the world's history, is now hastening to decay. With diffi- 
culty the vaunted mistress of the world now grasps her 
own. Pierced by barbarian hordes, torn by intestine wars, 
weakened at heart and tottering to her ruin, her last 
legions have been recalled for her own defence, and Roman 
Mancunium is abandoned, a prey to the northern savages 
— the Picts and Scots — who come, as Gildas relates, " like 
hungry and ravening wolves rushing with greedy jaws 
upon the fold." 

" Yet, once again, a change — and lo ! 
The Roman even himself must go ; 
While Dane and Saxon scatter wide 
Each remnant of his power and pride." 

Enervated by long submission to the Roman yoke, 
deprived of the protection of the forces of the Empire, 
the flower of her youth drafted away to swell the armies 
of the Emperors, Mancunium was left in a state of utter 
defencelessness, and speedily became a prey to the warlike 
hordes that came pouring in from the north. A period of 
anarchy and confusion followed, and the town again became 
the scene of fierce war and angry passion, of conquest and 
oppression, of barbaric rudeness and pagan splendour. 
For the protection of the town the Roman fortification at 
Castlefield was strengthened ; but as the Roman model of 
a fortress did not suit the military taste of the Britons, a 
large building of stone was reared as a more formidable 
barrier against assault, and it is at this period that Man- 
chester is supposed to have first boasted the possession of 
a rude castle. Unable, however, to cope with their foes, 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 325 

and deprived of all help from their former protectors, the 
unhappy Britons imprudently invited the aid of the Saxons 
to deliver them from the ravages and depredations of their 
oppressors. The succour asked for was promptly given ; 
but the tenacious Saxon, having once obtained a footing, 
was unwilling to loose his hold, and no sooner had he 
subdued the Caledonians than he set up a claim to, and 
forcibly established himself in possession of, the country of 
the Britons. A desperate resistance was offered, and the 
newcomers had to win their way inch by inch; but win 
they did, nor ceased they until the whole country lying 
between the Mersey and the Humber, and stretching 
away as far north as the Firth of Forth, had owned their 

The Saxons became masters of Lancashire about the 
year 488, when they seized the British fortress in Castle- 
field, and gave the command of it to one Tarquin. The 
perfidious cruelty of the foreign usurpers excited the 
resentment of the Britons, and the renowned King Arthur, 
in his resistance to the Saxon yoke, was distinguished by 
the most heroic devotion to the cause of his country. 

It is to this period that the mythic story of King Arthur 
and the Knights of the Round Table, related in " La Morte 
d'Arthur," belongs. The Torquin, or Tarquin, as he is 
therein named, is said by tradition to have. been a monster 
of gigantic stature and prodigious strength, who disgraced 
his courage by his brutality. He had by treachery gained 
possession of the fortified Castle of Manchester, where he 
fixed his abode, and where it is related he kept no less 
than sixty-four brave knights in ignominious bondage until 
he was eventually vanquished by Sir Lancelot du Lake. 

326 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

King of Cheshire, and one of the knights of Arthur's 
Round Table, who retook the Castle of Manchester and 
slew its tyrannous commander. 

We are not going to claim for the giant Tarquin a posi- 
tion among the " worthies " of Manchester, but as he hap- 
pens to be the earliest notability of whom we have any 
record, he is on that ground, at least, entitled to some 
attention. In the old Chronicle of Manchester, written by 
Hollingworth some two centuries ago, we have the follow- 
ing quaint account of this doughty Saxon : — " It is said that 
Sir Tarquine, a stout enemie of King Arthur, kept the 
castle, and neere to the ford in Medlock, about Mabhouse, 
hung a basin, on which basin whosoever did strike, Sir 
Tarquine or some of his company would come forth and 
fight with him, and that Sir Launcelot du Lake, a knight 
of King Arthur's Round Table, did beate upon the basin, 
fought with Tarquine, killed him, and possessed himself of 
the castle, and loosed the prisoners." 

The colony of Saxons that settled with their chief in 
Manchester possessed themselves of the houses already 
erected and the lands already cultivated, and the van- 
quished Britons were left to construct habitations for them- 
selves. In this way the surrounding country began to be 
reclaimed and brought under cultivation ; the immediately 
adjacent districts were cleared of their primeval oaks, and 
the wild beasts that inhabited them were dislodged to a 
greater distance. Salford, Cheetham, Newton, Ardwick, 
and Chorlton-on-Medlock were the districts first formed, 
and gradually the more remote townships of Rusholme, 
Withington, Stretford, Gorton, and Droylsden arose. As 
the Romans had converted the British name of the place. 

Old Manchester audits Worthies. 327 

Mancenion, into Mancunium, so now the Saxons changed it 
into Manige-ceaster or Manchester, an old name with a new 
signification — the city of men — by which it has ever since 
been known. 

Of the condition of Manchester for a century or more 
after the departure of the Romans little is known, though 
it would seem to have increased considerably in impor- 
tance. We learn from the Saxon Chronicle that about 
the year 617 Edwin King of Northumbria "subdued all 
Britain," from which it may be inferred that Manige-ceaster 
was included in her possessions ; and some sixty years 
later it was for a time a royal residence, Queen Ethel- 
burga, the consort of Ina King of Wessex, having in 689 
selected it as her abode whilst her husband was upon 
an expedition against the princes of North Wales ; 
and here Ina himself, with Adelard his cousin, continued 
for about three months after his successful campaign 
in Wales. 

Manchester continued under the Saxon rule for a period 
of two hundred years or more, when it was doomed to 
pass through the fiery ordeal of a foreign invasion more 
dreadful than any it had previously encountered. Under 
the banner of the Black Raven the sea-kings and jarls of 
the North, with their piratical multitudes, overran the 
country, and for more than a century our good old town 
was made the constant scene of their devastation and 

" What time the Raven flapped his gory wing. 
And scoured the White Horse o'er this harried realm ; 
His crowded galley brought the dread Viking, 
Lust at his prow, and rapine at the helm. 

328 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

" A conquering rabble ravaged o'er these lands, 
Urged by Valhalla's maidens to the strife, 
With joyous hearts they left their yellow strands, 
That in the battle they might yield up life." 

During these unwelcome intrusions the town suffered 
severely, and is said to have been wellnigh depopulated. 
Tradition says that the Nicker Ditch, a trench which 
flows between Reddish and Gorton, on the southerly side 
of the town, was constructed at this time as a defence 
against the assaults of the Northmen ; and it is affirmed, 
though with small probability of truth, that Reddish or 
Red-ditch, Gorton or Gore-town, and Denton or Dane- 
town, as also DanC'Shut, Dane-heys, Dane-head, and Dane- 
wood, in the same locality, commemorate a sanguinary 
encounter between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danish 

About the year 920, Edward the Elder, King, first, of 
the West Saxons, and then of the Mercians, repaired the 
town, which had remained in a ruinous condition from its 
destruction by the Danes, and at the same time, it is said, 
rebuilt the castle. Nearly a century later, Canute as we 
call him, or Knut, as his name was anciently pronounced, 
marched a powerful army against the Prince of Cumber- 
land and the King of Scotland, and in the course of his 
march through the north-western counties he passed 
through Manchester. There is a popularly - received 
tradition, that on his journey he gave his name to the 
mill upon the Medlock to which we have already referred. 
That the soil of our town has been actually trodden by 
the mightiest and most renowned of those "old sea- 
kings".^— a monarch before whom the Saxon dynasty 

Old Manchester andits Worthies. 329 

quailed, and whose courtiers believed that his word was 
powerful enough to stay the surges of the ocean— there 
can scarcely be a doubt, but that he actually gave name 
to the mill, as the popular tale affirms, may well be 

After the expulsion of the Danes, the Saxon lord, or 
thegn, as he was called, selected for himself a stronger 
position on the high ground near the confluence of the 
Irk with the Irwell, about a mile to the north of the old 
settlement, and built himself a fortified residence on the 
site of the present Chetham Hospital and Library. The 
position was further strengthened by a deep ditch or moat, 
that ran transversely from the Irk to the Irwell, following 
the course of the present Todd Street, Hanging Ditch, 
and Cateaton Street. A population gathered round the 
new centre, and by degrees the town extended from the 
Aldport, or Old Town, which had become much dilapi- 
dated by incessant warfare and the lapse of time, along 
Deansgate towards Aca's Field, now St Ann's Square, 
and the Market Place. 

For the convenience of his retainers and the burghers 
generally, the lord erected a mill on the fosse or ditch sur- 
rounding the manorial residence, at a point midway down 
Cateaton Street ; the road to it was called the Millgate — 
now the Old Millgate ; and when in later times another 
mill was erected on the banks of the Irk, the approach, to 
distinguish it, was designated the Long Millgate. A draw- 
bridge was thrown over the fosse, called the Hanging Bridge, 
which in later times was succeeded by one of stone, the 
arches of which remain at the present day. That impor- 
tant functionary in every Saxon colony, the armourer or 

330 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

smith, had a forge erected on the banks of the Irwell, near 
the end of Deansgate; the place was called the Smithy 
Bank, and it is still recalled by the name of Smithy Door. 

It is not known with certainty at what time the dwellers 
in Saxon Manchester were induced to discard their idols 
and embrace the doctrine of the Cross, but in all proba- 
bility it would be between the years 625 and 631, when 
Paulinus, the great apostle of the North, under the auspices 
of Edwin King of Northumbria and his wife Ethelburga, 
preached throughout the provinces of Deira and Bernicia ; 
certain it is that, at the time the Doomsday Book was 
compiled, Manchester could boast the possession of two 
churches, one dedicated to St Michael and -the other to 
St Mary, the only churches of which any mention is 
made as then existing in the Salford hundred — a tract 
of country at that time consisting for the most part of 
moss, moorland, and forest. 

Antiquaries are a good deal divided in opinion as to the 
position these two churches occupied. Whittaker affirms 
that St Michael's was erected at Aldport, and that when the 
Saxon chief removed his abode to a more northerly site at 
the confluence of the Irk and the Irwell, the town followed 
in the same direction, and a new church, dedicated to St 
Mary, was then erected in Aca's Field, and near the top of 
the present St Mary's Gate. All this, however, is mere 
surmise, without any evidence of a reliable nature to 
support it. When we remember the large area the parish 
of Manchester then embraced, it seems hardly likely that 
a second church should have been erected in such close 
proximity to the old one, except upon the supposition 
that it had fallen into decay during those fierce contests of 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 33 x 

which Manchester was so often the scene. Ashton-under- 
Lyne was at this time within the limits of the parish, and 
it has been suggested that one of the churches named 
on the survey may have been located there ; whilst other 
antiquaries incline to the opinion that the religious estab- 
lishment at Eccles was referred to. 

The rectorial residence stood upon the west side of the 
(deep ravine or dene, called the Denegate or Deansgate, on 
a portion of the land which to this day bears the name of 
the Parsonage. The site is now occupied by a building of 
considerable antiquity, belonging to the Dean and Chapter, 
and which is believed to have continued the parsonage 
or rectorial residence until the early part of the fifteenth 
century, when the rector of Manchester was exalted to 
the dignity of a warden, and the present building of the 
college was founded as a more fitting residence. The 
old parsonage has in the course of ages undergone great 
alterations, but sufficient remains to enable us to form- 
some idea of its external form and internal disposition : 
it is now in the occupation of Mr Wallis, draper. The 
walls of one of the upper rooms is still covered with oaken 
panelling, and in one of the apartments is an elaborately 
carved oak chimney-piece of undoubted antiquity. 

We pass by the periods of Danish spoliation and 
Norman conquest. From these times down to the begin- 
ning of the fifteenth century the history of Manchester 
is little more than a blank ; but though presenting few 
incidents worthy of commemoration, the town itself had 
become much more populous, and the prosperity of the 
people had greatly increased. Here, as in other places, 
the husbandman was becoming an artisan, the artisan a 

332 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

yeoman, and the yeoman a wealthy trader. The Flemish 
manufactures and woollen trade, too, had taken deep root 
in the town ; indeed, so early as the reign of Edward the 
Second, we find that a mill for dyeing goods existed on the 
banks of the Irk, and a few years later one for fulling was 
erected ; and so by degrees the British settlement of former 
times became a military station of the Roman era ; the 
Roman station became a Saxon village, which grew and 
increased in importance until it became a large and thriving 
mercantile town, and the centre of an extensive parish. 

Fuller relates in his quaint way the manner in which 
the woollen manufacture first took root in this country. 
Edward the Third, he tells us, sent emissaries over, who 
ingratiated themselves with such Flemings as were masters 
of their trade but not of themselves. They were told how 
greatly they would benefit themselves if only they would 
come over to England, bringing with them their craft and 
mystery, which would secure a welcome in all places. 
The assurance was given that "they would feed on fat 
beef and mutton, till nothing but their fulness should stint 
their stomachs ; their beds should be good, and their bed- 
fellows better, seeing the richest yeomen in England would 
not disdain to marry their daughters to them, and such 
was the beauty of the English maidens that the most 
envious foreigners could not but commend them." Allured 
by these temptations, and especially, as it would seem, by 
the hope of mating with the " Lancashire witches," who 
were then famed for their beauty,' a colony of Flemish 
emigrants settled on the banks of the Irwell, and spread 
themselves along the Lancashire valleys, laying the foun- 
dation for that industry which has raised Manchester to 

Old Manchester andits Worthies. 333 

such a pre-eminence, and made it the commercial capital 
of the Empire. We are apt to boast of the position our 
country holds among the nations of the world : we owe 
that in a great degree to our coriimercial supremacy ; and 
if we trace that back to its origin, we shall find it in the 
settlement in Manchester of a few Flemish artisans, lured 
by the charms of the " Lancashire witches." 

Up to this time the only means of communication with 
Salford, which had then obtained the charter of a free 
borough, was by the ford across the Irwell near the foot 
of the Smithy Bank. In 1368 Thomas del Booth, a rich 
yeoman, left the sum of thirty pounds for the erection 
of a stone bridge — the first probably in the country — to 
connect the two boroughs. On this bridge a chapel or 
oratory was built, which continued to be used for religious 
purposes until the time of the Reformation, after which it 
served the purpose of a prison for criminals. The oratory 
was taken down in 1776, but the bridge itself remained 
until 1838, when it gave place to the present Victoria 

Thomas del Booth, it will be seen, was one of the ear- 
liest benefactors to the town ; he was the representative 
of an old family settled at Barton, in the parish of Eccles, 
but little is known respecting him. 

Now, however, there comes upon the scene the first 
of the worthies of Manchester of whom we have reliable 
account — Thomas Lord de la Warr, the last male repre- 
sentative of an ancient and honourable house. In the 
period of commercial progress to which we have just 
alluded, the endowments of the Church of Manchester 
had increased in proportion to the increased wealth of the 

334 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

town, and much of them had been absorbed by non- 
resident rectors, who were engaged in secular avocations. 
The parsonage-house, too, had become inadequate to the 
requirements of the more luxurious priests of later times, 
and so a ready pretext was afforded for their frequent 
absence, and the consequent neglect of the pastoral duties 
they owed to a large and populous parish. 

At this time a very lax discipline would appear to have 
crept into the Church ; instead of its ministers being the 
living embodiments of the moral virtues, checking by 
the sanctity of spiritual influences the savage fierceness 
of the times, they had become altogether indifferent to 
the interests of religion, and abandoning the outward 
forms of mortification and humility, assumed an air 
of ease and sensuality to which even the feudatory lords 
were almost, if not altogether, strangers. As was said 
in the famous "Apology for the Lollards," attributed 
to Wycliff, " Now almost is there no worldly business 
that ministers of the altar are not employed in, . . . 
whereof it followeth that they live contrary to Holy 
Writ and to the decrees of old fathers." 

This spirit would appear to have been strongly charac- 
teristic of the clergy under the immediate cognisance of 
the rector of Manchester. Many and reiterated were the 
complaints, and long and enduring the delays interposed 
in the way of redress; but the time had now arrived 
when these abuses were to be remedied, and the eccle- 
siastical revenues of the parish appropriated to their 
legitimate purposes. A younger son of the feudal baron 
of Manchester, Thomas de la Warr, was brought up 
to the Church, and about the year 1380 was presented 

Old Manchester audits Worthies. 335 

to the rectory of Manchester, then in his father's patron- 
age. License of non-residence was granted to him, but, 
unlike his predecessors, he declined to avail himself of 
it, preferring to take up his abode at the parsonage, 
and to continue in residence there, in order that he 
might the more assiduously discharge the rectorial and 
diaconal duties devolving upon him ; and these were by 
no means of a mere nominal character, that might be ful- 
filled or left unperformed at pleasure. He had a settled 
jurisdiction over the clergy of the deanery (which at this 
time was united with the rectory), and was invested with 
a coercive authority over the goods and persons of offenders 
among them ; he was also common confessor to the clergy 
within his jurisdiction, and was further required to visit 
them at stated periods, and to examine into their de- 
meanour and conduct — oftentimes an obnoxious office 
-by reason of the increasing arrogance displayed by the 
rising members of that body. 

On the death of his elder brother in 1399, the good 
rector succeeded by inheritance to the barony of Man- 
chester ; his increased worldly greatness and honour, 
however, did not in the least abate, but rather increased, 
his sacerdotal zeal. Additional opportunities were now 
afforded him of correcting the evils that prevailed; and 
not content with mere complaint or protestation, he set 
about vigorously to provide for the more adequate cele- 
bration of the services of the Church, and the better 
administration of its revenues. After he had held the 
lordship of Manchester for about twenty years, he deter- 
mined to attempt the foundation of a college commen- 
surate with the increased extent of the ^town, and to 

336 Memorials of Manchester Streets\ 

withdraw the parish church of Manchester from the 
charge of a rector, and place it under the government 
of a capitular body, piously considering, as the charter 
of foundation ' expresses it, " that the church of Man- 
chester having a large and ample parish, and very popu- 
lous, had been accustomed to be ruled and governed 
in bygone times by rectors, some of whom never, and 
some very seldom, cared to personally reside in the 
same ; " and that from their long absence followed a 
diminution of divine worship and a great danger of souls. 

After advising with his diocesan, the Bishop of Lichfield 
and Coventry, and others, he petitioned the king, and 
on the 22d May 142 1 obtained a royal license author- 
ising the collegiation of the old church of Manchester- 
On the 14th of the following month he summoned a 
meeting of his parishioners ; and, as we learn from the 
petition to the Bishop of Coventry then agreed upon, it 
was proposed that the parish church should be collegiated, 
and a building erected capable of accommodating the- addi- 
tional number of clergy who would be required for the 
administration of its sacred rights, the benevolent priest 
undertaking to surrender the advowson, and to complete, 
at his own charge, the college or collegiate residence, and 
further endow it with certain of his own lands, in addi- 
tion to the existing endowment of the rectory, which it 
was proposed to transfer to the new foundation. 

What a glorious " parish vestry " must this have been ! 
Here, unanimously congregated at the sound of the bell, 
were the great magnates of the district — Lawrence Hulme 
and Henry Bulkely, the churchwardens at that time ; Sir 
John le Byron of Clayton, and Sir John de Radclifife of 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 337 

Ordsal, two worthy knights of the neighbourhood, with 
a profusion of esquires and gentlemen of rank, including 
Edmund de Trafford, John de Booths, Ralph Longford, 
Thurstan de Holland, James de Strangeways, and Ralph 
de Prestwich, with stout yeomen, whose veneration for the 
Church was only equalled by their determined zeal in giving 
it their defence. It requires but little stretch of the ima- 
gination to realise the gathering within the walls of the 
old church, to note the look of approval as the pious 
De la Warr, in the benevolence of his own good heart, 
unfolds his plans for the collegiation of their parish 
church, oiTering to give up his ancestral home, and at 
his own expense erect a suitable residence for the clergy 
on its site, and endow it with a portion of his lands, if 
the parish will but assent to the assignment of the 
rectorial estates to the new foundation ; and we may 
almost fancy we hear the clank of sword and spur upon 
the pavement as the knightly throng retires from the 
scene, talking over the disinterested zeal and Christian 
benevolence of the worthy old priest-lord. 

The consent of the parishioners having been given, a 
charter of incorporation was granted by the Bishop of 
Lichfield and Coventry, which was confirmed by the 
Prior and Convent of Coventry, the Archdeacon of 
Chester, and the Dean and Chapter of Lichfield. It 
is the popular belief that Lord de la Warr built the 
present fabric of the Collegiate Church, but this was not 
the case. Though there is no positive evidence of the 
fact, there is reason to believe that a church had been 
erected by the lords of Manchester for the convenience 
of their retainers within the fortified precincts of the 

338 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

baronial residence, and that this preceded the existence, 
and gave place to the present edifice, which was built 
upon its site. Neither the charter of incorporation nor 
the petition of the parishioners in any way bear out the 
idea that it was intended to supersede the existing church 
by a new erection, but, on the contrary, the fact that the 
whole of the funds bequeathed by the benevolent founder 
were employed in building the collegiate residence, and 
the endowing of it, leads to the supposition that the 
design he had in view was not so much the raising of 
an ecclesiastical structure as the placing of the hitherto 
neglected parish under the spiritual guidance of a warden 
and a large staff of subordinate clergy, that so the ser- 
vices of the Church might be celebrated in as complete 
a manner as possible, and be accessible to the people at 
all canonical hours. Lord de la Warr lived to see his 
plans only partially completed ; within a few years of 
the foundation he was seized with an illness, and on the 
fifth Henry the Sixth (1426-27), he passed away from 
the worldly scenes of munificence like a shock of corn 
fully ripe, and was interred in the Abbey Church, at 
Swineshead in Lincolnshire, to which in his life he had 
been a liberal benefactor. Though no storied urn or 
pillared bust may perpetuate the name of the ancient 
worthy, we have an enduring monument of his pious 
zeal — a Christian church in which for ages past our 
forefathers have been privileged to offer up the sacrifice 
of praise and prayer — a temple which for ages yet to 
come shall to our successors be indeed the house of God, 
and may become the gate of heaven. Though but few 
incidents of his life may have been preserved to us, the 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 339 

memory of the good old priest-lord will be revered so 
long as one single stone of that venerable pile shall remain 
standing upon another. 

By the founding of the Collegiate Church, Manchester 
became ecclesiastically, what it had previously been in an 
industrial point of view, the most important town in the 
county, — after the warden of Manchester, the rector of 
Winwick and the parson of Wigan being next in impor- 
tance ; but the remainder of the secular clergy were, for the 
most part, poor, rude, and ignorant, and, it is to be feared, 
of questionable morality. Besides christening, shriving, 
marrying, and burying, many of them eked out their 
existence by keeping traders' accounts, making wills, and 
by a variety of other occupations of a non-ecclesiastical 

Harrison, describing the clergy at this time, says, "Many 
of them went either in divers colours like players, or in 
garments of like hue, as yellow, red, green, with their 
shoes piked, their hair crisped, their girdles armed with 
silver, their apparel for the most part of silk, their caps 
laced and buttoned with gold ; so that to meet a priest in 
those days was to behold a peacock that spreadeth his 
tail when he danceth before his hens." Dr Halley, in 
his " Puritanism and Nonconformity of Lancashire," face- 
tiously remarks, that " very few of these clerical peacocks 
spread their tails to dance before the beautiful hens of 
Lancashire, as many of their benefices were not worth 
more than four or five pounds a year." 

John Huntington, the first warden of the church colle- 
giated under Lord de la Warr's influence, is fairly en- 
titled to rank among the worthies of Manchester. Like 

340 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

his patron, he made himself an example of the truth of 
that precept which says it is good to be zealously affected 
in a good cause. Huntington, at the time he entered 
upon his sacred functions as warden of Manchester, was 
rector of the neighbouring parish of Ashton-under-Lyne. 
During his lifetime the structure in which our forefathers 
had been wont to worship gave place to a more imposing 
building. Finding the old church inadequate to the 
extended duties of the capitular body, and being, as he 
is described, a man of spirit, attentive to the duties of his 
church, and anxious to complete and adorn it, he com- 
menced the building of a choir eastward of the then 
existing edifice, portions of which still remain ; and, as 
a record of his works, he left his name, in accordance with 
the fashion of the times, in a rebus or device, which may 
be seen on two shields that still adorn the archway sepa- 
rating the choir from the lady chapel of the Cathedral : one 
represents a huntsman with dogs, and the other a vessel or 
tun, which joined together represent the name Huntington. 
Huntington's example had great weight with his par- 
ishioners, who liberally contributed towards the work of 
completing that honoured temple which for generations 
past has been the pride of Manchester, and the history 
of which is so closely interwoven with its local annals. 
Of the incidents connected with his wardenship, history 
has left no record ; the choir which he commenced he lived 
to see completed, and after filling the sacred office for 
thirty-six years, he quitted the scene of his worldly labours 
on the nth November 1458, and was buried in the vault 
beneath the high altar of the church, to which in his 
lifetime he had been such a liberal benefactor. 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 341 

At the time that Huntington was completing the work 
which his predecessor had begun, there was living in the 
neighbouring hamlet of Crumpsall a family of small 
estate. The house in which they dwelt stood very nearly 
upon the site of the present workhouse, and was in 
existence until about twenty years ago, when it was 
taken down — a little, low, thatched building of very 
unpretending appearance, and such as in these times 
might serve as the home of an agricultural labourer of 
the humblest class. It might originally have presented 
a more picturesque exterior, having been built in the 
black-and-white half-timbered style ; but constant patch- 
ing and repairs, and successive coats of whitewash, had 
most effectually destroyed any attraction in this respect 
that it might formerly have possessed. The interior 
had been sadly altered and defaced, but in one of the 
rooms to the east remained a curious fresco painting, 
that appeared to have been executed about the time of 
Queen Elizabeth, when the occupants had risen to some 
eminence in Manchester. In this humble abode it is 
believed was born that worthy prelate to whose large- 
hearted benevolence Manchester is indebted for one of 
its most valued foundations — Hugh Oldham, Bishop of 
Exeter, and founder of the Free Grammar School. 

Of the early life of the good Bishop comparatively little 
is known, and the date of his birth even has never yet 
been satisfactorily determined. He appears to have early 
attracted the attention of the Countess of Richmond, the 
mother of King Henry VII., and to her influence he was 
no doubt largely indebted for much of his future pre- 
ferment. He was brought up in the household of the 

342 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

first Earl of Derby, and placed under the tuition of one 
Maurice Westbury, an Oxford man, retained for the pur- 
pose of instructing young gentlemen, a practice common 
in those days in the residences of the chief nobility — his 
fellow-students being James Stanley, afterwards Bishop 
of Ely, and William Smyth, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, 
the founder of Brazenose College, Oxford. 

Oldham commenced his academical career at Christ 
Church, Oxford, and completed it at Queen's College, 
Cambridge, where he took his degree. In 1485 he was 
appointed rector of St Mildred's Church in London. In 
1493 he became rector of Swineshead in Lincolnshire, 
and canon of St Stephen's, Westminster, and the follow- 
ing year vicar of Cheshunt in Hertfordshire. In 1495 he 
was elected to the mastership of St John's Hospital, 
Lichfield, and in the same year he was collated to a 
prebendal stall in Salisbury Cathedral, receiving also 
within a few months the appointment of chaplain to 
the Countess of Richmond. In 1496 he was appointed 
prebendary of St Paul's, and in the following year he 
obtained a stall in Lincoln Cathedral. In 1499 ^^ ^'^^ 
elected master of St Leonard's Hospital in Bedford ; 
three months afterwards he was appointed to the living of 
Wareboys in Lincolnshire, and before the close of the same 
year he was advanced to a stall in the Cathedral Church 
of York. In 1500 he became rector of Shitlington in 
Lincolnshire, and the following year he was presented 
to the rectory of Overton in Worcestershire. In 1503 
he was created Archdeacon of Exeter, and in the follow- 
ing year he was, through the influence of his patroness the 
Countess of Richmond, appointed bishop of that diocese. 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 343 

Oldham was a great patron of learning ; and it would 
seem that the state of ignorance of his native county had 
deeply impressed his mind, for during the latter part of 
his life he had erected and maintained a free school in 
Manchester, near to the College. At this time the only 
education to be obtained by the poor was in the semin- 
aries attached to the religious houses, and the boys were 
usually trained for the priesthood. Grammar-schools were 
unknown in Lancashire at least, and Jack Cade, had he 
visited these parts, would have had no occasion to complain 
that "the youth of the realm" were "most traitorously 
corrupted " by their influence. 

The good Bishop was blessed with a sister, who, not 
satisfied with merely helping him in well-doing, induced 
her husband also to aid him in his good work ; so that 
Joan Bexwicke, with her husband, Hugh Bexwicke, a 
member of an old Blackley family, may be looked upon 
more in the light of co-founders with the Bishop than as 
mere trustees under his will. The foundation charter of 
the Grammar School, which is dated the ist of April 1425, 
recites that the Bishop had built a school and endowed 
it, " for the good mynde which he hadd and bare to the 
countrey of Lancashire, consydering the brynging upp in 
lernyng, vertue, and good maners childeryn in the same 
countrey should be the key and grounde to have good 
people ther, whiche both lacked and wanted in the same, 
as well for grete povertie of the comn. people ther, as 
allsoe by cause of long tyme passyd the teyching and 
brynging upp of yonge childrene to scole to the lernyng 
of gramyer hath not been taught ther, for lack of sufficient 
schole-master, so that the childeryn in the same countrey, 

344 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

having pregnant wytte, have ben most parte brought upp 
rudely and idilly, and not in vertue, cunnyng, htterature, 
and good maners." 

In addition to the splendid provision he made for the 
Manchester School, Oldham was also a liberal benefactor 
to Brazenose College, and assisted Fox, the Bishop of 
Lincoln, with a contribution of four hundred pounds — a 
large sum in those days — towards the building of Corpus 
Christi College, Oxford, to which he also bequeathed con- 
siderable grants of land ; and it is recorded that it was by 
his counsel and advice that Fox was induced to found the 
college in preference to a monastery, as he had origin- 
ally intended — Oldham suggesting to him that, instead of 
"building houses and providing livelihoods for a company 
of monks, whose end and fall we may ourselves live to see, 
it were more meet a great deal that we should have care to 
provide for the increase of learning, and for such as by their 
learning shall do good to Church and Commonwealth." 

The worthy Bishop is described as a man of exalted 
wisdom and resplendent piety, of gentle manners, and 
much inclined to peace and quietness, but, nevertheless, 
possessed of sufficient courage to assert and defend his 
rights, as he showed in a dispute he had with the Abbot 
of Tavistock, and his joining the Bishop of Winchester in 
opposing the prerogative of the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
The dispute with the Abbot of Tavistock was the old one 
between bishop and prior — the right to episcopal super- 
vision. The monasteries repudiated all episcopal control, 
and owned allegiance only to the Pope of Rome, with " self- 
government." Their discipline had become more and more 
lax, and hence the desire of a conscientious bishop like 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 345 

Oldham to bring them under subjection. He early mani- 
fested a desire to correct the gross abuses of the monastic 
system, and had he lived a few years later, there can be 
little doubt that he would have taken a foremost place 
among the leaders of that great national religious move- 
ment — the English Reformation. 

Bishop Oldham died on the 2Sth June 1519, under 
sentence of excommunication, on account of the action at 
law at the time pending with the Abbot of Tavistock ; 
but the Pope's sanction being obtained, he was buried in a 
chapel built by himself expressly for the purpose, at the 
upper end of the south aisle of his own cathedral, where a 
handsome monument has been erected to his memory — 
with the exception of the noble institution that owes its 
existence to his munificence, the only monument that 
perpetuates his name ; for among the thousands who in 
successive generations have benefited by Oldham's liber- 
ality, there has not yet been evoked the spirit of gratitude 
that would rear even the smallest memorial to keep alive 
the remembrance of one to whom Manchester owes so 
much. We raise costly trophies to the memory of kings 
and conquerors ; but how much more deserving of our 
homage is the memory of one who, in those dark feudal 
times, was one of the earliest pioneers in the work of 
breaking through the barriers of ignorance, and driving it 
from its strongholds into'the outer darkness .■' 

In 1540 Manchester had conferred on it a privilege 
which the inhabitants do not appear to have very highly 
appreciated. In that year an Act of Parliament was passed 
constituting the town a place of asylum or sanctuary — " a 
place," as the Act designates it, " of privilege and tuicion 

346 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

for terme of life of all and singular offenders and male- 
factours, of whatsoever qualitie, kynde, or nature all and 
every theire offences be, for the whiche said offences and 
crymes the paynes and punysshement of death shulde ensue 
by the statutes, laws, and customes of this realme," other 
than murder, rape, burglary, robbery in the highway, or in 
any house, or in any church or chapel, or wilfully burn- 
ing any house or barn with corn. The immunity, as we 
have said, could not have been greatly esteemed, for in the 
following year a representation was made to Parliament 
that the privilege was very prejudicial to the prosperity of 
the town, and another Act was passed transferring the 
sanctuary to Chester. 

The statute throws some light upon the condition of 
Manchester at this time, which, it says, " hath of long tyme 
been atowne well inhabited, and the king's subjects, inhabi- 
tants of the same towne, well sett a worke in making of 
clothes as well of lynnen as of wollen, whereby the inhabi- 
tants of the said towne have obteyned, gotten, and come 
unto ryches and welthy lyvings, and have kept and sett 
many artificers and pore folks to work within the said towne, 
and by reason of the great occupying, good order, strayte 
and true dealing of the inhabitants of the said towne, 
many straungers, as well of Irlond as of other places within 
this realme, have resorted to the said towne with lynnen 
yarne, wooles, and other necessary wares for making of 
clothes, to be sold there." The Act then sets forth that 
" dyverse light and evil-disposed persons syns the passing 
of the sanctuary statute, for certen offences by them 
comytted and done, have nowe of late resorted and made 
their abode within the said towne of Manchestre, and 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 347 

lived in ydleness not allone by geving evil occasion to 
honest and true labourers and servauntes within the said 
towne to live in such sort of idleness, but also have allured 
and enticed diverse servaunts and labourers within the said 
towne to practise and use unlawful! games, whereby they 
have consumed and mysspent their masters' goodes being 
in their handes, and ever that syns this resorte of the 
said persons to the said town there hath been comytted 
and done divers thefts and felonyes, as in felonyous break- 
ing of walk-mylls and staylyng clothes thyder brought 
to be fulled, and also in staylyng of yarne layde out to 
be whyted, and in staylyng and cutting down great peaces 
of clothes from the teyntors by night as by day, to the 
great empoverysshment of the owners thereof, so that they 
be not able to kepe theire credite with theire creditors." 

Several "sanctuary houses" were erected in Manchester 
for the accommodation of these offenders against the civil 
law, each having a chapel and altar attached to it, to which 
the inmate could fly in case of necessity. The remains of 
one of these were discovered several years ago on widening 
Smithy Door ; another was situated in the Old Millgate ; 
and a third, according to tradition, occupied the site of the 
Old Boar's Head Tavern at Hyde's Cross. 

Whilst these complaints were being made against the 
abuse of the privilege of sanctuary, a great revolution was 
taking place in religious thought and action, which led to 
those changes in the teaching and ritual of the National 
Church, the meaning of which is conveyed in the single 
word which marks that memorable epoch — the Reforma- 
tion. Manchester had its full share of disquietude during 
the progress of that memorable struggle, some of its 

348 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

inhabitants displaying unusual zeal in ' promulgating the 
doctrines of the Reformed Church, whilst others were 
equally earnest in their defence of the "ancient faith." 
Amongst the former was one who endured a martyr's 
death at Smithfield, and earned for himself a well-deserved 
niche in English history. 

One of the earliest names in the grand muster-roll of 
eminent scholars which Hugh Oldham's Grammar School 
displays is that of John Bradford, one of the most eminent 
divines of the Protestant faith, who suffered at the stake for 
his religion in the persecuting reign of Queen Mary. Brad- 
ford is believed to have been born in the year 1510, so that 
he would be about five years of age when Oldham's school 
was founded. According to some authorities, Blackley, a 
chapelry on the outskirts of Manchester, has the honour of 
giving him birth, an opinion that is based upon the fact 
that his mother resided there at the time he was a prisoner, 
and that his earliest associations were with that village, 
where many of his kindred, including the Bexwickes, who, 
as we have seen, were also connected with the Oldhams, 
resided. Others incline to the opinion that Bradford was 
born in a house in the Old Millgate. Certain it is that 
in 1489 a deed was executed conveying a house in the 
Millgate, which is described as between the tenement of 
John Bradford and Richard Piatt ; and this John Bradford 
may not improbably have been the father of the martyr. 

Having received his education at the Grammar School, 
his "activity in writings," and "expertness in the art of 
audition," secured for him the appointment of secretary 
to Sir John Harrington, treasurer of the English forces in 
France. His plans, however, were shortly afterwards 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 349 

changed, and in 1547 he entered himself at the Inner 
Temple as a student of the Common Law. Here, 
influenced by his friend and fellow-student, Thomas 
Sampson, afterwards Dean of Chichester, he embraced the 
doctrines of the Reformation, when he abandoned the 
study of the law for that of divinity, in which latter 
purpose he was patronised by good old Bishop Ridley. 
In 1548 he entered at Carhbridge, where he took his 
degree, and was chosen a Fellow. Subsequently he was 
appointed a Prebendary of St Paul's ; and so great was his 
popularity, that he was appointed one of the chaplains to 
King Edward the Sixth. About the middle of that king's, 
reign he came down to his native county, and preached at 
Manchester, Eccles, Prestwich, Middleton, Ashton-under- 
Lyne, Stockport, and other places, and with such success 
that the conformity of the population of Lancashire to the 
Reformed faith was chiefly owing to his extraordinary 
exertions, there being in the county at the beginning of 
the reign of Edward the Sixth a greater proportion of the 
people who were hostile to the Protestant tenets than were 
to be found in any other part of the kingdom. After the 
accession of Queen Mary, Bradford continued his public 
preaching, and used every means in his power to keep alive 
the Protestant religion, which appeared to be fast sinking 
beneath the more gorgeous ordinances of the Church of 
Rome. As might be expected, his ardent zeal against 
Popery soon rendered his situation a dangerous one, and 
he was early marked out for destruction. He was 
publicly accused of sedition and teaching heresy, for which 
he was committed to the Tower. On the 22d January 
1554, he was brought to trial before Gardiner, Bishop of 
Winchester, and Bonner, Bishop of London, from which 

35° Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

time he underwent a long series of perplexing examina- 
tions. The terrors of excommunication were hurled against 
him, but in vain ; the alternative of death or recantation 
was presented, and faith gained the victory. He was 
eventually sent to Newgate, from whence he was removed to 
Smithfield, where, on the 30th June 1555, at the stake he 
fearlessly met the torturous death by which Mary and her 
cruel abettors sought to exterminate the Protestant faith. 

Bradford, as we have said, was closely connected with 
the Bexwickes, a family who did good in their day and 
generation. To Richard Bexwicke we are indebted for 
the richly-carved stalls and the elaborate tabernacle- work 
on the north side of the choir of the Cathedral. Another 
of the family, Hugh Bexwicke, married Joan, the sister of 
Hugh Oldham. At his martyrdom, Bradford was at- 
tended by his brother-in-law, Roger Bexwicke ; and a few 
years later, Isabel, widow of Roger Beck, and a grand- 
daughter of the Roger Bexwicke just named, was a 
benefactor to the town, she having, at her own expense, 
caused pipes to be laid for the conveyance of water from 
the fountain near the top of Market Sted or Market 
Street as it was afterwards called — and which gave name 
to the present Fountain Street and Spring Gardens — to 
the conduit near the Market Sted or Market Place, and 
for its future maintenance bequeathed the rental of certain 
houses in St Mary's Gate. 

On the accession of Elizabeth, the public profession 
of Protestantism was restored, and every means taken to 
effect the overthrow of the Romish system. Lancashire at 
this time was said to be " mightily infected with Popery," 
and severe measures were resorted to against those who 
professed the ancient creed. Dr Chadderton, who was 

Ola Manchester and its Worthies, 3 5 1 

at the time Bishop of Chester, also held the warden- 
ship of Manchester; and to him Elizabeth addressed a 
letter, couched in her usual tone of decision, requiring him 
to visit the most remote parts of his diocese. The Queen's 
admonition produced the desired effect, the visitation 
being entered upon with all convenient dispatch, when 
a kind of religious warfare was carried on with much 
bitterness on both sides. The chapel on the Old Bridge, 
and the New Fleet prison, which occupied a site near 
the present Palatine Hotel, were crowded with recusant 
prisoners, who had been hunted out with keen rapacity by 
a swarm of informers, who earned a base living by aug- 
menting the miseries of their unfortunate fellow-creatures. 
The Bishop appears to have had recourse to a somewhat 
novel mode of effecting the conversion of these religious 
prisoners. Dodd affirms that he gave instructions to the 
clergy of Manchester to read prayers in the apartments 
where the recusants were confined at meal-times, so that 
they had the pleasant alternative of taking theological 
nourishment with their food, or going without victuals 

Dr John Dee, Chadderton's successor in the wardenship 
of Manchester, was a man who took little interest in Papist 
or Protestant theology, being more devoted to the study 
of alchemy and astrology than to political or religious 
controversies. Dee's connection with the occult sciences 
brought down upon him the anger of the Fellows of his 
College, who accounted the casting of horoscopes and the 
transmuting of baser metals to gold as something akin to, 
if not even worse than witchcraft. He was not, it would 
seem, very successful in his efforts to produce gold, for he 
became involved in debt, and had to leave the town ; his 

352 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

revenues were sequestered, and he died at Mortlake in 
a state of abject poverty. 

Of all the Manchester worthies, there is none perhaps 
whose name is more frequently mentioned with affection 
than he to whom quaint old Fuller in his " Worthies of 
England " has accorded a well-deserved niche — Humphrey 
Chetham, the founder of the noble hospital and library 
that bear his name. Crumpsall claims the honour of 
having given birth to Hugh Oldham, and there also, in 
1580, Humphrey Chetham was born. 

The Chethams were an ancient and honourable family, 
who derived their patronymic from the village of Chee- 
tham in the parish of Manchester, and their descent from 
one Galfridus or Geoffrey Chetham, who several times 
filled the office of Sheriff of Lancashire during the long 
reign of Henry the Third, the Crumpsall line being 
an offshoot from the branch settled at Nuthurst in 
Moston. Crumpsall Hall, the birthplace of Humphrey, 
of which we give an illustration, was a picturesque half- 
timbered structure, with quaintly-gabled roof and pro- 
jecting bay-windows. It occupied a site about a quarter 
of a mile from the new hall, and was pulled down about 
half a century ago. 

Like Bradford, Chetham received his education at the 
old Grammar School. In due time he was apprenticed to 
a linen-draper or clothier, and afterwards, associated with 
his brothers George and Ralph Chetham, he embarked in 
trade as a dealer in fustians, which he bought at Bolton 
and sold in London. He had also considerable transac- 
tions with Ireland in yarn and linen, and with his other 
branches of business he combined that of a money-lender, 

Old Manchester and its Worthies, 353 

having, if we may judge from letters that have been 
preserved, been somewhat exacting in the matter of 
usury. His trading career was eminently and uninterrup- 
tedly prosperous, so much so, that he was enabled to acquire 
considerable landed property in his native county. In 
1620 he purchased the park and manor of Clayton, near 
Manchester, and with them the old moated hall, which for 
generations had been the residence of the knightly family 
of the Byrons, ancestors of the late Lord Byron. Here 
he took up his abode, and subsequently, in 1628, he be- 
came the owner of Turton Tower, near Bolton. His in- 
creasing wealth soon attracted the attention of the money- 
seeking functionaries of Charles the First, who, for the 
purpose of replenishing an empty exchequer, served him 
with a summons to pay a fine for not having attended at 
the King's coronation in order that he might receive the 
honour of knighthood. 

It would seem that throughout his life the greatest 
troubles Chetham had were in avoiding the greatness 
which it was attempted to thrust upon him. His reluc- 
tance, however, was of no avail. In November 1634 he 
was nominated Sheriff of the county ; immediately after 
he received from his predecessor the first writ for that 
obnoxious impost which eventually led to the overthrow of 
Charles — ship-money. In collecting the tax, he found 
himself considerably out of pocket ; and when, in August of 
the succeeding year, a second levy was made, he took the 
precaution of recouping himself the sums he had expended, 
a procedure that brought him into trouble with the Chan- 
cellor of the Duchy, who threatened to make it " a Star 

Chamber business." A lengthy correspondence ensued, 

2 A. 

354 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

but, in the long run, Chetham was compelled to make 

Whilst this was going on, he became involved in a con- 
troversy with the Heralds' College, for having, as was alleged, 
appropriated the armorial bearings of a family to which he 
had no title. It would seem that he had not borne arms 
before his shrievalty, and, anxious to do honour to that office, 
he had inadvertently adopted the coat of Chadderton, and 
used it as his own insignia at the Assizes'. For this offence 
he was again threatened with a prosecution, but eventually 
the Earl Marshall was induced to condone the offence, and 
grant the confirmation of a pedigree and arms, in considera- 
tion of the payment of ten pounds. Humphrey begrudged 
the payment of this sum, and, alluding to the gold bezants 
which appeared in the arms, he sarcastically wrote to his 
attorney that " they (the arms) were not depicted in soe 
good mettall as those armes wee gave for them." Possibly 
the worthy Sheriff appreciated the motto Quod tuum tene 
more highly than the arms he was required to pay for. In 
1648 the shrievalty was again conferred on him, although 
he strove to be excused "on account of his many infir- 
mities." Five years afterwards, on the 12th October 1653, 
he died unmarried, at Clayton Hall, in the seventy-third 
year of his age, and was interred in a small chapel at the 
east end of the old church, to which, during his lifetime, 
he had rendered good service in reforming abuses and 
obtaining a new charter for the better administration of its 

During his lifetime, he had at his own expense main- 
tained and clothed a number of poor boys, and by his will 
he bequeathed the sum of seven thousand five hundred 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 355 

pounds, to be expended in the foundation and endowment 
of a hospital for the maintenance, education, and appren- 
ticing of forty poor boys for ever. He further bequeathed 
a sum of one thousand pounds to be expended inbooks for 
or towards a library — the first free public library established 
in the kingdom. In his lifetime he had expressed a desire 
to obtain possession of the College for his benevolent pur- 
poses, and, in accordance with the tenor of his will, his 
executors effected the purchase of the buildings in 1654. 
Within the last twenty years new beauty has been added 
to the " old church" by the insertion of a memorial window 
and the erection of a marble statue to the memory of 
Humphrey Chetham, at the cost- of a former participator 
in his bounty; and it is well that the virtue of so charitable 
a mind should thus be held forward for future example. 

In Chetham's time Manchester was the chief centre of 
the manufacturing industry of the country, and the most 
important town in the county, though it was only a village 
in comparison with the Manchester of to-day. The old 
town of Aldport had entirely disappeared. The Lodge 
at Aldport served as a town residence for the Earls of 
Derby; and here, a century previous to the time of which we 
speak, James Stanley, who with his son Sir John founded 
the " Derby Chapel " in the " old church," was a frequent 
visitor after he had resigned the wardenship of Manchester, 
and become Bishop of Ely, his name being still commemor- 
ated in Bishop's Gate, a narrow street leading from Great 
Bridgewater Street to Aldport. The Market Place, or 
Market Sted as it was then called, with the parish church, 
formed the centre round which the town gathered. In the 
centre of the space now covered by the Cotton-waste 

356 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Dealers' Exchange stood the Market Cross, and in the 
area in front was placed the " Booths," originally formed of 
wood, in which the town's Portmotes or Boroughreeve's 
Court, and the Courts Leet and Baron of the feudal lords, 
were held, as were also subsequently the Petty and Quarter 
Sessions. Hard by was the pillory or neck-stocks, a mode 
of punishment claimed as a manorial right in feudal times, 
and used chiefly against dishonest traders, — offending 
women being subjected to another kind of punishment, 
equally disagreeable, and certainly not less degrading — 
the tumbrel or cuck-stool. In mediaeval times, the female 
portion of the population of the lower classes were, it 
is to be feared, not very amiable ; in the turbulent inde- 
pendence that then reigned, a too free use of the 
tongue was not greatly conducive to the peace and 
good order of the community, and to remedy the evil the 
cucking-stool was had recourse to. This consisted of a 
rude kind of chair placed upon the end of a long pole, 
balanced in the centre upon a pivot, and suspended over a 
pool of water. In this chair the culprit was placed, and then 
lowered into the water. Originally the punishment was 
inflicted in the pool surrounding the fortified residence of 
the Radcliffes, a mansion occupying the site of the present 
Half-Moon Tavern in Chapel Walks, and, from its situation, 
called the Pool House or Pool Fold. The Radcliffes do not 
appear to have greatly appreciated these exhibitions, for 
in the Court Leet records there are numerous complaints 
recorded of their having cast earth into and otherwise en- 
croached upon the " Cucking-stool Pool." In 1590 and 
1591, the "Pool" having been left dry, the cucking-stool 
was transferred to the marl-pits, or Daub Holes as they 

Old Manchester audits Worthies. 357 

were called, near the top of Market Sted Lane, and in front 
of the present Infirmary ; and there it remained until the 
eighteenth century, the chair itself, we believe, being still 
preserved as a relic in the Infirmary. Another mode of 
punishment to which the weaker sex were occasionally 
subjected, and which has now also fallen into disuse, was 
the brank or scold's bridle, consisting of an iron collar, with 
a band of the same material fitting closely over the head, 
secured by a padlock at the back, and opened by hinges. 
From within the hoop a spiked iron plate projected into 
the mouth, and pressing upon the tongue, formed an effec- 
tual gag. This instrument, which had a leading chain 
three feet long attached to it, was used to control the 
energetic tongues of the female stall-keepers in the market, 
and is still in the possession of the Corporation, though it 
is long since it was called into requisition. 

The lane leading from the Market Sted to the mill was 
lined with houses on both sides. Withy Grove, leading up 
from the junction of Toad Lane with Hanging Ditch, was 
indeed a grove of withies, the old " Seven Stars " and a few 
other dwellings being all that existed to give the character 
of street. Market Street Lane was a narrow and tortuous 
thoroughfare, hemmed in on each side by quaint old timber 
houses, with high-peaked gables and overhanging roofs, 
standing in an in-and-out sort of fashion, as if with studied 
disregard of method or order. Deansgate led off in another 
direction, the buildings extending about as far as the present 
Bridge Street. Another street. Long Millgate, ran parallel 
with the Irk, an irregular line of houses with little plots of 
garden in their rear forming the boundary on either side. 
Near to the present Ducie Bridge, and not far distant from 

358 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

the fulling-mill, a rural lane shaded with hedgerows 
branched off on the right, that in after years received the 
name of Miller's Lane. The only communication with 
Salford was by the Old Bridge, a structure of three arches, 
built, as we have seen, by Thomas del Booth in the reign of 
Edward the Third, and so narrow that passengers had 
occasionally to take refuge in little recesses whilst vehicles 
passed along. The royal borough could only boast of two 
streets, all else being green fields and pasture lands, with 
here and there a solitary homestead. Chapel Street, or 
Sargeant Street as it was then called, extended from the 
foot of the bridge to a point opposite the present Trinity 
Church ; and in another direction a thoroughfare led up 
from the bridge, to which in after years the name of Green- 
gate was given. 

Such was the appearance of Manchester at the time of 
the breaking out of those unhappy struggles between 
Charles the First and his Parliament, during which this 
country was torn by intestine commotions and drenched 
with civil slaughter. The place became the great strong- 
hold and rallying-point of the Puritan party; and it is 
worthy of note that it was here the first blood was shed, 
and resistance to the demands of the crown first offered, in 
that great conflict. In June 1642 the King issued his 
commission of array, when Ralph Assheton of Middleton, 
acting in the interests of the Parliament, seized the powder 
and match lying in the College buildings, then belonging 
to Lord Strange, the heir to the Earldom of Derby, where- 
upon his Lordship marched upon the town with a force, and 
demanded the surrender of the magazine. Some of the 
inhabitants who were favourable to the Royalist cause, 

Old Ma?ichester andits Worthies. 359 

being anxious to appease Lord Strange, invited him to a 
banquet in the town, in the hope that an amicable arrange- 
ment might be come to. While he was being peaceably 
entertained, some of the more zealous on the other side 
called out the trained bands ; a skirmish ensued, shots 
were fired, and a linen-weaver named Percival, who was 
watching the proceedings from a stile near the old church, 
was killed, being the first person who fell in the great civil 

War was now inevitable, and the Mancestrians set 
about putting the town in a state of defence. Heyrick, 
the Puritan warden, took an active interest in the work, 
and engaged the services of Colonel Rosworm, a German 
engineer, who had been trained in the wars of the Low 
Countries. Rosworm agreed to superintend the defences 
of the town for six months for the modest sum of thirty 
pounds, and repented his bargain almost as soon as he 
had made it, for on the following morning he was offered 
five times that sum by the Royalist commander. To his 
honour be it said, he was faithful to his engagement, though 
he bewailed the beggarly remuneration he had accepted, 
and never ceased to rail at the "despicable earthworms," 
as he termed his employers, for the niggardly and reluctant 
manner in which they performed their part of the contract. 
Rosworm set about his work in good earnest, and he did 
it well. Barricades and earthworks were constructed at 
the ends of the principal streets, and posts and chains were 
placed across Salford Bridge, Deansgate, and other ap- 
proaches to the town, to impede the progress of any 
invading force. In the meantime Lord Strange had pre- 
pared his plans, and in September it was known that he 

360 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

contemplated an assault upon the town. On the morning 
of Sunday the 25th September, his forces, which consisted 
of four thousand foot and two hundred horse, with seven 
guns, were seen defiling along both banks of the Irwell, 
one division, under the command of Sir Thomas Tyldesley, 
taking up its position in the grounds at Aldport, the other 
keeping the western side of the river, and occupying 
Salford. Rosworm was ready for the foe, and undertook 
the defence of Salford Bridge ; Bradshaw was posted at the 
Deansgate entrance to the town ; and Captain Radcliffe of 
the Pool guarded the approach by Market Street Lane ; 
whilst Captain Booth with the Dunham tenantry kept 
himself in reserve in the Millgate, ready to give assistance 
wherever it might be required. In the evening the 
Royalists tried to force the bridge, but were repulsed by 
Rosworm and the " muskettiers '' whom he had stationed in 
the churchyard. On the following day Colonel Tyldesley 
made an assault on Bradshaw's force at the Deansgate, 
and driving them forward, set fire to two barns and eight 
or ten thatched houses ; but the Royalists were in turn 
compelled to retire. In the meanwhile Lord Strange, or 
Lord Derby as he had now become — his father having 
died the previous day — ^opened fire with his artillery, but 
without doing any great damage. On Tuesday the fight 
was continued, but with no greater success. Wednesday 
was devoted to negotiation for a surrender, but the towns- 
men refused to yield. On Thursday hostilities were 
renewed, in the midst of which Captain Standish, whilst 
urging the Royalists to force their way over the bridge, 
was shot down by one of Rosworm's men placed on the 
church tower. During Friday the cannonade was con- 

. Old Manchester and its Worthies. 36 1 

tinued with more or less vigour, but with very little result. 
In the course of the day Lord Derby received a summons 
requiring him to raise the siege and join the King with his 
forces at Shrewsbury. On the following day prisoners 
were exchanged, the besieging forces were withdrawn, and 
so ended the siege of Manchester. To prevent a surprise, 
the fortifications were immediately strengthened, a renewal 
of Rosworm's services was secured, and the town continued 
in the possession of the Parliamentarians to the close of 
the war, without any further attempt being made to gain 
possession of it. 

Among the officers who most distinguished themselves 
in the service of the Parliamentarian party was Charles 
Worsley, the eldest son of Ralph Worsley, a wealthy 
trader of Manchester, who resided at Piatt, an estate 
within the township of Rusholme, on the outskirts of 
Manchester, and who claimed descent from Elias de 
Workesley, Lord of Worsley, a famous crusader, who 
attended Robert Duke of Normandy in the expedition to 
the Holy Land. Charles Worsley was born at Piatt in 
1622, and preferring the more exciting profession of arms 
to the peaceful pursuits of commerce, he entered the 
service of the Parliamentarians, and became a captain in 
their forces in 1644. No soldier rose more rapidly. In 
1650 he had reached the position of lieutenant-colonel; and 
so much did he gain the confidence of Cromwell, that before 
he was thirty years of age he was entrusted with the 
command of the Protector's own regiment of foot. In 
August 1650, Worsley marched from Manchester with his 
regiment to join Cromwell in Scotland, but arrived too 
late to share in the victory at Dunbar, though he served 

362 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

with the Lord-General during the remainder of the cam- 

On an occasion memorable in the annals of England — the 
dissolution of the Long Parliament, April 20, 1653 — Colonel 
Worsley, in obedience to the orders of Cromwell, repaired 
with a force of three hundred men to Westminster, and sta- 
tioned himself outside the Houses of Parliament, there to 
await the signal requiring his presence within. On receiv- 
ing this, he and his men rushed forward and surrounded 
Cromwell, who immediately conveyed to them his wishes. 
Cromwell having expelled the members who were present, 
advanced to the table, and pointing to the mace which lay 
upon it, commanded them to " take away that bauble." It 
is not recorded who obeyed this direction, but as from the 
journals of the House of Commons it appears that when 
the next Parliament met (the " Barebones " Parliament, 
which was summoned to appear at Whitehall, July 4, 
1653), an order was passed requiring that the Serjeant- 
at-arms " do repair to Lieutenant-Colonel Worsley for the 
mace, and do bring it to the House," there can be little 
doubt that it was he who charged himself with its safe 
custody when the order was given for its removal. 

In 1654, Manchester was for the first time admitted to 
Parliamentary representation. In the Parliament sum- 
moned to assemble on the 3d of September in that year, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Worsley was nominated by 
the Lord-General representative for Manchester, and 
several of the inhabitants went through the formality 
of electing him as the first member. On the dissolution 
of this Parliament, he was chosen one of the ten, with 
the rank of major-general and the powers of a viceroy, 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 363 

who represented the Protector in their several districts. 
The counties of Leicester, Cheshire, and Stafford were 
assigned to him, and he discharged the duties of his 
office with great diligence, some say with great severity 
and puritanical rigour. 

He had held his office only a few months when he was 
summoned by Cromwell to a conference in London, and, 
as a mark of distinction, had apartments assigned to 
him in St James's Palace, or "James House," as his 
father in his diary calls it. Here he arrived feeble and 
exhausted ; a disease had set in which proved fatal, and 
on the evening of Thursday, June 12, 1656, he expired, 
at the early age of thirty-five. He was buried with 
much pomp in Henry the Seventh's Chapel at West- 
minster; and it is worthy of notice that his remains 
escaped the general exhumation that fell to the lot 
of Cromwell's followers interred in that great national 
mausoleum. Dean Stanley, in the third edition of his 
" Memorials of Westminster Abbey," gives an interesting 
account of the finding of the supposed remains of the 
Lieutenant-General. A half-length portrait of him is still 
preserved as an heirloom of the family at Piatt. 

By the early death of Worsley, Cromwell sustained an 
irreparable loss. He was a man of great energy, courage, 
and decision ; and by his shrewdness and calm judgment, 
as well as by his skill as a commander, he seemed the 
best fitted to succeed to the Protectorate had Providence 
willed that such a form of government should be pro- 
longed in England. 

Another Manchester man, if not a "Manchester worthy," 
who attained to eminence during the Commonwealth 

364 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

period, was Ralph Brideoake, an ecclesiastic of versatile 
powers, and, it is said — and not without some show of 
reason — of versatile principles also. Brideoake was born 
at Cheetham Hill, and received his early education at 
the Manchester Grammar School. At the age of sixteen 
he was admitted a student of Brazenose College, Oxford, 
and at twenty-eight obtained his degree of Bachelor of 
Arts. He was subsequently appointed pro-chaplain of 
New College, and on the King's visit to the University in 
1636, was created by royal letters Master of Arts. Subse- 
quently he was appointed curate of Wytham in Oxford- 
shire, and having gained the notice of Dr Jackson, 
President of Corpus Christi College, he was by him 
presented to the High Mastership of the Grammar School 
of his native town, a position he resigned for a chaplaincy 
in the household of the Earl of Derby. He was present at 
the siege of Lathom House, and it is generally believed 
that it is to Brideoake's graphic pen we owe the narrative 
of Charlotte Tremouille's heroic defence of that famed 
Lancashire stronghold. He is said by one of his bio- 
graphers " to have done good service." He did, in more 
senses than one ; for whilst faithful to the interests of his 
patrons, he was no ways negligent of his own, and he 
seemed to have had a peculiar faculty for adapting his con- 
duct to the varying spirit of the age in which he lived. When 
the Earl of Derby was condemned to death, Brideoake 
pleaded with Lenthall, the Speaker of the House of 
Commons, for the pardon of his master, with so much 
earnestness and ability, that though he failed in obtaining 
a commutation of the punishment, he so won upon the 
feelings of the Speaker that he appointed him his own 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 365 

chaplain, and nominated him preacher of the Rolls Chapel, 
where it may be fairly presumed he preached Puritanism to 
the Long Parliament with as much zeal as he had preached 
the doctrine of the right divine of kings to the soldiers who 
garrisoned Lathom House. Through the influence of his 
new master he was presented to the vicarage and rectory of 
Whitney in Oxfordshire ; and on the restoration of Charles 
the Second, he was appointed chaplain to his Majesty and 
canon of Windsor. Afterwards he became successively 
rector of St Bartholomew's in the city of London, and of 
Standish near Wigan, in Lancashire. In 1667 he was 
made Dean of Salisbury, and seven years later, having 
found favour with the Duchess of Portsmouth, he was 
nominated to the bishopric of Chichester, which he held 
until his death in 1678. 

Resolute as the men of Manchester had shown them- 
selves in resisting the unconstitutional demands of King 
Charles, and devoted as they had been to the Common- 
wealth, they welcomed the restoration of monarchy with 
an enthusiasm that knew no bounds. The coronation of 
the restored King was made the occasion of extravagant 
rejoicings ; wine flowed from the conduit, the gutters were 
flooded with strong beer, and bonfires blazed for a whole 

The Act of Uniformity soon followed, when two 
thousand ministers withdrew themselves from the com- 
munion of the Church of England. Among them was 
good old Henry Newcome, one of the clergy of the 
Collegiate Church, a " prince of preachers," as he has been 
called by his friends. He may be considered as the father 
of Nonconformity in Manchester. 

365 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

Heyrick, the Puritan warden of Manchester, who had 
preached Presbyterianism during the Commonwealth, 
readily accommodated himself to the altered condition of 
the time, and renounced his principles to retain his place ; 
but Newcome, more consistent, unable to conform to the 
discipline of the Church, rerired, to the great grief of his 
people, by whom he was greatly beloved. On the grant- 
ing of " indulgences," he commenced preaching in his own 
house, but that being found too small for his numerous 
hearers, he obtained a license for a barn in the neighbour- 
hood of Shudehill, in which he held weekly services. On 
the passing of the Act of Toleration, at the accession of 
William of Orange, the wealthy Presbyterians 'of Man- 
chester gathered round their favourite preacher, and built 
him a more fitting tabernacle, on the site of the present 
Unitarian Chapel in Cross Street — ^the first erected for the 
use of the Nonconformist body in the town. Being close 
to the Pool where, as we have seen, the cucking-stool was 
placed, it was in derision designated by the opponents of 
dissent St Plungem's Chapel. Newcome was not long per- 
mitted to continue his ministrations, his death occurring 
on the 17th September 1695, little more than a year after 
the opening of the "great and fair meeting-house." 

Whilst High Churchmen and Puritan Presbyterians were 
occupying their time in theological disputations, another 
Manchester man was increasing his worldly wealth, and 
accumulating a property which at his death he bequeathed 
for educational purposes — William Hulme, the founder of 
the Charity which bears his name. The Hulmes were a 
"genteel family," who had been seated at Hulme in Red- 
dish, a hamlet on the southerly side of Manchester, as early 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 367 

as the thirteenth century; and here, on the loth September 
163 1, was born William the "founder." He received his 
education at the Free Grammar School of Manchester, but 
of his subsequent career little is known. He is commonly- 
said to have been engaged in trade, but it is more than 
probable that he followed the profession of the law. He 
married, in 1653, the daughter of a Mr Robinson of Kersley, 
and by her had an only son, Banastre Hulme, who pre- 
deceased him. Being left childless, he bequeathed his 
estate, after making provision for his widow, to charitable 
purposes, and died in 1691. His will directs that the clear 
annual rents and profits arising from his property shall be 
distributed amongst four of the poor sort of Bachelors 
of Arts taking such degree in Brazenose College, Oxford, as 
from time to time shall resolve to continue there by the 
space of four years, " after such degree taken," the same to 
be nominated and approved by the warden of Manchester 
and the rectors of the parish churches of Prestwich and 
Bury. The property, which originally yielded only about 
£ap a year, has by the commercial enterprise of Manchester 
been increased more than a hundred-fold in value, and it is 
estimated that ere long the real income will be ;^ 10,000 
a year. 

The difficulty Hulme's trustees have experienced has 
been to dispose of the yearly increasing revenue from his 
estates. The number of exhibitioners and the amount of 
their allowance have from time to time been increased, and 
Parliament has been induced to devote a large portion of 
the income from purposes essentially educational to the 
purchase of advowsons, the building of churches, and the 
erection of parsonage-houses, — an entire departure from the 

368 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

spirit and intention of the founder's will. It is to be hoped 
that at no distant day the rapidly increasing funds of 
Hulme's Charity may be rescued from their present diver- 
sion, and that determined steps will be taken to secure the 
establishment of such an educational institution in Man- 
chester as will best give effect to the benevolent designs of 
Hulme, and so confer inestimable benefits on Lancashire 
and the adjacent counties. 

At this time a mighty change had come over the feeling 
of the people of Manchester. The descendants of those 
who had bargained with the old German engineer to help 
them in their rebellion against the authority of Charles the 
First were now equally determined in their adherence to 
the cause of the exiled Stuarts. When George the First 
ascended the throne, the Jacobites were in the ascendant, 
and the dissenters, who were favourable to the Hanoverian 
succession, had, on the whole, but a sorry time of it. On 
the lOth June 171 5, the birthday of Prince James the Old 
Pretender, a riotous mob, headed by Thomas Syddall, a 
peruke-maker, paraded the town, denouncing the dissenters 
and proclaiming King James the Third. The chapel in 
Pool Fold, built by the friends of Newcome, was attacked 
and reduced to a mere wreck, everything portable being 
carried away. Syddall, the ringleader, was placed in the 
pillory, and afterwards confined in the Castle at Lancaster. 
Whilst he was undergoing imprisonment, the Scotch ad- 
herents of the Pretender passed through the town on their 
way south. Syddall with other prisoners was liberated, 
and he then joined the insurgent forces, and marched with 
them to Preston, where they were attacked by General 
Willes, and compelled to surrender. The Jacobite-barber 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 369 

was made prisoner, tried at the " Bloody Assize," and con- 
demned to death. It is said that his son, a youth of ten 
years of age, conceiving an implacable hatred against dis- 
senters and Hanoverians, vowed that, if spared, he would 
avenge the death of his father, — a feeling he attempted to 
gratify, as we shall see, some thirty years later. 

The barbarous severities to which those who took part 
in the rebellion of 171 5 were subjected greatly exasperated 
the Jacobites, and much bitterness of feeling prevailed 
in the town, encouraged, it is to be feared, by the fierce 
polemics of the day. The supporters of the Stuart cause 
held their meetings in certain recognised taverns in the 
town and its vicinity, maintaining during their conviviali- 
ties the outward manifestations of loyalty to the reigning 
sovereign, and at the same time satisfying their own 
scruples of conscience with respect to the prince whom 
alone they recognised, by holding their glasses " over the 
water," whilst drinking " the health of the king." 

In 1733, whilst party feehng was at its height, the 
founder of Methodism paid a visit to Manchester. There 
were only two churches in the town at the time (Trinity 
being on the Salford side of the Irwell), the Old Church, 
the worshippers at which were High-Churchmen and zeal- 
ous partisans of the Stuarts, and St Ann's, the congregation 
of which were loyal to the House of Brunswick. Wesley 
preached at both. He knew nothing, however, of political 
parties, his mission being to the multitude ; and as he 
showed no special preference to either faction, as might 
be expected, he gave satisfaction to none. 

One of the most energetic leaders of the Jacobite party 

was a " Manchester worthy " whose name ought not to be 

2 B 

370 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

forgotten in this faithful record of Manchester men — John 
Byrom, more familiarly know by the sobriquet of Doctor 
Byrom, whose ready pen and sparkling wit were always at 
the service of his party. The Byroms were an ancient and 
honourable family, who had been for some time settled at 
Kersal, on the outskirts of Manchester. The father of John 
is described as a " hnen-draper," a business that in many 
respects resembled the " warehouseman " of the present 
day. John, who was a younger son, was born in 1691, his 
early education he received at Chester, and at Merchant 
Taylor's, in London, after which he was admitted at Trinity 
College, Cambridge, where he took his degree of B.A. in 
171 1. Shortly afterwards, his first contribution appeared 
in the pages of the Spectator, to be followed immediately 
by his famous pastoral, " Colin and Phoebe." In 1717 he 
studied medicine at Montpelier in France, though it does 
not appear that he ever followed the practice of it. On his 
return to England, the ardent young Jacobite fell in love 
with his cousin ; he quickly gained the young lady's favour, 
but her father's approval was not so readily obtained, — 
objection probably being taken to a youthful wooer with 
doubtful prospects and no profession ; consent, however, if 
not approval, was eventually given, and in 1721 the young 
couple were united. 

Byrom now began to feel the increased responsibilities 
of his new position ; and his means becoming straitened, 
he set up in London as a teacher of shorthand. The death 
of his elder brother without issue, however, placed him 
in possession of the Kersal estates, and in a position of 
independence, when he was enabled to enjoy his otium cum 
dignitate, and devote his leisure to literary pursuits, his 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 371 

pen being always active with some epigram or political 
squib. He will always be remembered as the author of 
the popular Chris.tmas hymn " Christians, awake." To 
him also we owe the well-known lines, written during the 
Jacobite controversies in Manchester — 

" God bless the king ! — I mean our faith's defender. 
God bless — no harm in blessing — the Pretender ! 
But who Pretender is, or who is king, 
God bless us all ! that's quite another thing." 

The laureate of the Jacobites, as he has been termed, 
was more then a match for his Whig antagonists. Imbued 
with strong religious feelings, there was little of bitterness 
in his disposition ; the shaft of ridicule was never enven- 
omed, his playful wit and genial good-humoured satire 
telling with far greater effect than the coarse and angry 
invectives with which he was at times assailed. If he was 
ready to lampoon a foe, he never lacked the courage to 
rebuke a friend. This is shown in the lines he addressed to 
Townley, the Jacobite colonel, who was sadly addicted to 
profane swearing : — 

" Soldier, so tender of thy prince's fame. 
Why so profane of a superior name .'' 
For the king's sake the brunt of battle bear. 
But for the King of king's sake — do not swear." 

He died on the 26th September 1763, and was buried 
in the Collegiate Church, where he had been baptized 
seventy-two years before. In Gregson's' " Portfolio of Frag- 
ments of Lancashire," there is a spirited portrait of him, 
sketched in the last year of his life, while spending an 
evening at John Shaw's Punch-House, a famous resort of 
the adherents of the Stuarts. 

572 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

The host of the "Punch-House," John Shaw, was a 
man of mark in his day and generation. In early life he 
had been a trooper, and had fought in the wars of Queen 
Anne's reign. During his campaigns abroad he had ac- 
quired the art of brewing punch, then a favourite beverage; 
his fame soon spread, and his house, which was popularly 
known as " John Shaw's Punch-House," became frequented 
by the principal traders and other residents of the town, 
who usually assembled about six o'clock in the evening, 
and according to rule called for sixpennyworth of punch. 
Shaw's military training had made him a martinet in dis- 
cipline, and the rules he had laid down for the govern- 
ment of his establishment were rigidly enforced. Eight 
o'clock was the hour fixed for closing ; as soon as the clock 
struck, John's custom was to present himself before his 
guests, and proclaiming in a loud voice, "Eight o'clock, 
gentlemen, eight o'clock ! " accompanying the announce- 
ment with the suggestive cracking of a horsewhip, soon 
cleared the house. He was at this time a widower, but 
he found an able Heutenant in the person of his maid Molly 
Owen, a sturdy damsel of mature years, and of as inflexible 
a disposition as her lord. If the cracking of John's whip 
failed to " speed the parting guest," Molly was ordered to 
bring in a pail of water, and with this would expedite the 
movements of the loiterer. 

At John's hostelry parliamentary as well as parish 
politics were discussed, and here the representatives for 
the county were not unfrequently determined upon. The 
story is told that, upon the occasion of an election, when 
Colonel Stanley had been returned, he took some of his 
friends to "John Shaw's " to entertain them. At the usual 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 373 

hour John presented himself with his whip ; Colonel Stanley 
pleaded that the occasion was a special one, but no en- 
treaties could prevail over the inexorable Boniface, who 
replied, with characteristic curtness, " Colonel Stanley, 
you are a law-maker, and should not be a law-breaker ; 
and if you and your friends don't leave this room in five 
minutes, you will find your shoes full of water." 

Dr Aikin, in his " Description of Manchester," written 
in 179S, says that at that time John Shaw had ruled his 
little kingdom for more than half a century ; and the same 
authority adds, that his " early closing " system had caused 
him to be held in great favour with the matrons of 
Manchester, who on more than one occasion testified their 
high appreciation of his salutary regulations by according 
him their thanks. John was himself a thoroughgoing 
" Church and King " man, and few persons found their 
way into his parlour who did not hold the same views. 
If by any accident an unfortunate Whig or Presbyterian 
happened to stray within its precincts, and gave expression 
to his opinions, he was sure to meet with a reception more 
warm than welcome. 

The genial spirits who met to discuss punch and poli- 
tics under the shadow of the " Punch-House " eventually 
formed themselves into a convivial club — the first of the 
kind established in Manchester. The club, as originally 
constituted, boasted a president and a vice-president ; but 
on the death of Mr Clough, popularly known as "Billy 
Clough," the first vice-president, there were two or three 
contested elections for the vacant chair, that were carried 
on with so much turbulence, that John had recourse to a 
somewhat autocratic exercise of power, and solved the 

374 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

difficulty by "disestablishing" the "vice," and so restored 
harmony among his patrons. The punch, as we learn 
from the archives .of the club, was served in china bowls. A 
shilling-bowl was called a P of punch, and a sixpenny-bowl 
a Q. If a member came alone, he called for a Q ; and if 
two or more joined, they called for a P ; but seldom more 
than sixpence per head was spent. The origin of these 
curious designations is now lost, and baffles conjecture; 
but it is not improbable they may have suggested the 
expression, " Mind your P's and Q's." The club grew and 
prospered until the death of the old man, which happened 
on 26th January 1796 ; he was then eighty years of age, 
and had occupied the house upwards of fifty-eight years. 

On the death of John Shaw, one Peter Fearnhead suc- 
ceeded to the house. The club continued, and the same 
regulations were maintained, with the assistance of John's 
old servant, Molly Owen, who appears to have been con- 
sidered as a sort of heirloom. A few years later, the 
house was altered and part pulled down, when the 
members migrated to a public-house at the top of 
Smithy Door, kept by a Mrs Fisher. Subsequently they 
removed to the Dog and Partridge, at the bottom of 
Market Street, then kept by Mr Prescott, and afterwards 
by Mrs Glover. The next move was, in 1830, to the 
Thatched House Tavern, where the club continued until 
1834, when it absorbed the "Sociable Club," a kindred 
institution, into its venerable bosom, and removed to the 
York Hotel, in King Street, which it vacated in the 
following year for the King's Arms, at the bottom of 
King Street; but finding the quarters unsatisfactory, it 
again changed, and in the same year sought shelter under 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 375 

the roof of Mr Joseph Challender, at the Unicorn, in 
Smithy Door. On the formation of the present Victoria 
Strfeet, in 1838, the Unicorn was pulled down ; Mr 
Challender then established himself at the Blackfriars 
Hotel, and there the club followed him, where the mem- 
bers continued to hold their meetings until 1852, when 
another change took place. In May of that year they 
had their first meeting at the Spread Eagle, in Hanging 
Ditch ; eight years later they again migrated, this time to 
the Star Hotel in Deansgate ; and in 1867 the club found, 
another home under the appropriate shadow of the Mitre 
in the Old Churchyard, where it flourishes fresh and green 
in this year of grace 1874. 

It is a notable fact that, with scarcely an exception, the 
presidents of John Shaw's Club have been octogenarians 
before relinquishing their office. The first president of 
whom we have any record was James Massey, his successor 
being a Mr James Billinge. James Bateman, Esq., an opu- 
lent banker and ironfounder, held the office for a lengthy 
period, and at his death Mr Thomas Gaskell was elected. 
Mr Gaskell remained a member of the club for the long 
period of sixty years, and died on the 8th December 
1833, at the advanced age of eighty-two, when Captain 
Robert Hindley, who had for several years discharged 
the duties of "vice," was elected to the vacant office, a 
position he continued to hold until 1852, when, on account 
of advancing years, being then eighty-two, he resigned, and 
Mr Edmund Buckley, formerly (1841-47) M.P. for New- 
castle-under-Lyme, was elected as his successor. Mr 
Buckley, whose memory will long be cherished by the sur- 
viving members of the club, was a regular attender, and 

376 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

continued to preside over the meetings until his death in 
1865, he having reached the patriarchal age of many of 
his predecessors. By his will he bequeathed a small 
endowment, which it is hoped the club will long continue 
to enjoy. Mr John Reid, of the Bank of England, 
was next appointed ; but leaving Manchester almost 
immediately afterwards, he resigned the office, and Mr 
James Rogerson, a member of the well-known firm of 
Langworthy Brothers & Co., who had for some years 
•previously discharged the duties of recorder, was elected 
in his stead. Mr Rogerson did not long enjoy the honour, 
being removed by death in 1871, when the present pre- 
sident, Mr Thomas Sowler, was elected. Mr Sowleris the 
proprietor, and a son of the founder, of the influential 
and widely-circulated journal which for nearly half a cen- 
tury has continued the leading organ of the Conserva- 
tive party in the North of England, and the steadfast 
exponent of constitutional principles in church and state. 
He is one of the most " clubbable " of men, a Conservative 
in the truest sense of the word ; and under his genial rule 
we may hope that "John Shaw's Club " may continue for 
many years to come an unbroken link connecting the 
social habits of old and riiodern Manchester. 

In addition to the president, the club numbers among 
its staff of officers a vice-president, a poet-laureate, an 
attorney-general, a doctor, a chaplain, and a recorder, 
the last-named office being held by the writer of this 
paper. The members possess several relics of earlier days, 
including a characteristic portrait in oil of John Shaw him- 
self, in a scratch wig, and holding a bowl of punch in his 
hand ; a companion picture of " Old Molly ; " a portrait in 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 377 

oil of Mr Thomas Gaskell, a former president of the club ; 
and another by Wilkins of his successor, Captain Hindley, 
presented to the members in 1853 by Mr C. Wood ; a 
cleverly-executed drawing in pencil of John Shaw, a copy 
apparently of the larger picture, the work of Mr Edward 
Chesshyre, a former member, who for forty years held 
successively the offices of poet-laureate and recorder ; and 
an engraved portrait of the late president, Mr Edmund 
Buckley. The most valued relic the club possesses was 
restored to it by Mr Lushington Phillips in January 1855 — 
the long-lost punch-bowl which originally belonged to John 
Shaw himself, a barrel-shaped vessel of white china, with 
the figure of a bacchante painted on one end. The bowl, 
or more correctly speaking, barrel, rests upon a wooden 
stillage ; the punch is supplied through an opening in the 
top answering to the bung-hole, and drawn off by a metal 
tap inserted in the end. Such is John Shaw's Club, a 
social institution that has had an existence in Manchester 
for wellnigh a century and a half. 

The year 1745 was a memorable one in Manchester. 
In August the youthful Charles Edward Stuart, son of the 
old Pretender and grandson of James the Second, landed 
in the Western Islands of Scotland while the King was at 
Hanover, and proceeded on his march to Edinburgh, where 
he proclaimed his father King. Here the Prince and his 
forces were followed by Sir John Cope, who engaged 
them at Prestonpans about twelve miles from the capital, 
but with such ill success, that the King's troops were 
effectually routed in about ten minutes. Encouraged by 
this success, and gathering strength as it went forward, the 
rebel army advanced southwards. Leaving a small gar- 

378 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

rison in Carlisle, and being still unopposed, the march was 
continued to Penrith, and thence to Manchester. Colonel 
Townley, the representative of an old Lancashire family, 
who joined the Pretender's standard at Preston, had made 
careful arrangements for the reception of the Prince and 
his troops. On the evening of Friday the 28th Novem- 
ber the vanguard entered the town, and on the following 
morning the main body joined it and encamped in St 
Ann's Square — then newly built, and the most fashionable 
quarter — where they were greeted with shouts of welcome 
by the Jacobites, who assembled in crowds. The force 
numbered several hundreds of men, chiefly of the High- 
land clans, who marched under the banners of their 
respective chieftains to the music of the Highland pipes, 
and though but indifferently clad, they appeared to be in 
high spirits. 

The Prince took up his quarters at the residence of a 
Manchester merchant in Market Street Lane — Mr John 
Dickenson, an ancestor of the Dickensons of Birch in 
Rusholme,-now represented by Sir William Reynell Anson, 
Bart. Mr Dickenson's house thenceforward became known 
as the " Palace ; " subsequently it was converted into a 
tavern bearing the name of the " Palace Inn," and more 
recently it has been rebuilt as a warehouse, which still 
retains the designation of " Palace Buildings." The prin- 
cipal officers assembled at the Bull's Head in the Market 
place, a house noted as the resort of those disaffected to 
the Hanoverian cause. 

Several of the gentlemen and principal -traders of the 
town enrolled themselves, and a Manchester regiment was 
raised in the service of Prince Charles. Colonel Townley 

Old Manchester andits Worthies. 379 

took the command ; three of the sons of Dr Deacon, a 
celebrated nonjuring divine, received commissions, as did 
also Captain Dawson, the hero of Shenstone's pathetic 
ballad of " Jemmy Dawson." The youthful Syddall, who, 
as we have said, had conceived an implacable hatred 
against the Hanoverian race after the rising in 17 15, was 
made adjutant, and one of the masters of the Grammar 
School, the Rev. Thomas Coppock, was appointed chap- 
lain. Baines says that, " as if foreseeing their destiny, " the 
Manchester regiment was reviewed in St Ann's Church- 
yard. It is more probable that St Ann's Square was 
the place selected, as the circumscribed area of the 
churchyard would hardly afford space for a military 

On the morning after his arrival, the Young Chevalier 
was proclaimed in St Ann's Square, great rejoicings 
followed, and the day was wound up with an illumination 
and a display of fireworks. On the Sunday a special 
service was celebrated in the Old Church, at which many 
of the rebel army attended, the sermon being preached by 
Coppock, the newly-appointed chaplain. The Prince oc- 
cupied the warden's stall, and the ladies of the congre- 
gation, to testify their enthusiasm in the cause, decked them- 
selves in tartan ribbons and shawls. The Whigs and Pres- 
byterians of the town kept out of the way, and, as Dr Halley 
remarks, " In old Puritan Manchester the orange plumes 
seemed to have grown pale, and faded into white feathers 
before the bright colours of the Stuart tartan." 

On the morning of Monday the ist December the Prince 
resumed his march, a portion of the army fording the Mer- 
sey at Stretford, and the remainder crossing at Stockport ; 

380 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

thence the troops passed through Macclesfield and Leek, 
and reached Derby on the 4th. But though 

" The Stuart, leaning on the Scot, 
Pierced to the very centre of the realm, 
In hopes to seize his abdicated helm," — 

his career was suddenly stopped. Hearing that the Duke 
of Cumberland with an army of veterans was in the 
neighbourhood, and distrusting the skill of their own 
officers, they beat a retreat northwards, carrying with them 
whatever in the way of booty they could lay their hands 
upon. On reaching Manchester, the regiment raised by 
Colonel Townley was broken up and dispersed, but Cop- 
pock, Syddall, Dawson, the Deacons, and several other of 
the more determined supporters of the Prince, pushed on 
to Carlisle, where they were compelled to surrender. Cop- 
pock was executed in the Border City, but the others were 
sent to London, and there condemned to the scaffold. The 
head of Syddall was sent to Manchester, and placed upon 
the Exchange. . Captain Thomas Deacon was treated in 
like manner ; and it is recorded of the father, that he never 
afterwards passed the spot where the insulted countenance 
of his son had been exposed without reverently raising his 
hat as a token of respect. A Jacobite poet has embalmed 
the memory of these Manchester martyrs in the following 
quaint lines : — 

" The Deel has set your heads to view, 
And stickt them upon poles ; 
Poor Deel ! 'twas all that he could do. 
Since God has ta'en their souls.'' 

The Hanoverians of Manchester celebrated the suppres- 
sion of the rebellion with public rejoicings ; the church-bells 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 381 

were rung, and orange ribbons were flaunted in the streets 
as gaily as the Stuart tartan had been a few weeks before. 
A riotous mob assembled, and proceeded to the house of 
Dr Deacon, and afterwards made an attack on that of the 
Widow Syddall, and in cruel mockery compelled both 
to make an appearance of rejoicing by illuminating their 

The Bull's Head, where the officers of Prince Charles's 
army established their headquarters, was a noted hostelry 
in the days of the Georges. The house still remains, and 
the gruff countenance of its ancient sign may yet be. seen 
over the archway leading to its long-frequented parlour. 
The place was the principal rendezvous of the Jacobite 
party, and here Dr Byrom and other beaux esprits who 
supported the cause of the exiled dynasty held their con- 
vivial meetings. 

The Bull's Head, as we have said, was a house of 
considerable note. Here many questions affecting the 
welfare and prosperity of the town were discussed ; and 
when, after the final overthrow of the Stuart dynasty, and 
the bitterness of party feeling had subsided, it became 
the meeting-place of those who were really the pioneers 
in improving the system of municipal government. From 
this ancient hostelry emanated the plans for widening and 
improving some of the principal thoroughfares, and for 
th.e better lighting and watching of the streets. On the 2d 
March 1775, a meeting was held, at which a subscription 
was commenced for purchasing the buildings necessary 
for widening the Old Millgate, St Mary's Gate, and the 
passage leading from the Exchange to St Ann's Square. 
Ten thousand pounds was the estimate sum required, 

382 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 

and by the 2Sth July in the same year, the secretary 
to the fund, Mr Jo. Chippindall, a member of an old 
Lancashire family, now represented by the Rev. Jno. 
Chippindall, M.A., rector of St Luke's, Cheetham, and 
rural dean, was able to announce that £10,771, 3s. 6d. 
had been contributed by sundry public-spirited indivi- 
duals, the name of John Shaw appearing among the 

Nine years later, liberal minds were again at work 
devising liberal things for the benefit of future genera- 
tions. Robert Raikes had just propounded his scheme 
for the establishment of Sunday-schools. From an 
account of the introduction of these institutions into 
Manchester by the 'Rev. John Piccope, a former incum- 
bent of St Paul's, we learn that on the lOth August 1784 
Thomas Johnson, the boroughreeve, and John Kearsley, 
and Henry Norris, constables, issued a circular urging the 
introduction of Sunday-schools into Manchester, accom- 
panied with an address on the subject from the pen of 
Dr Bayley, the founder of St James's, and convening a 
meeting of the inhabitants, to be held on the 27th of 
the same month, "at Mr Shaw's, the Bull's Head Inn." 
At this meeting a subscription list was opened, and in 
this way the Sunday-school system, which has since taken 
such deep root, and conferred such inestimable benefits 
upon the town, was first introduced. 

Here, then, we bring our narrative to a close. We have 
endeavoured to place before the reader, though but very 
imperfectly, some account of " Old Manchester and its 
Worthies," and to give a retrospect of the great trading 
city, showing the continuity that exists between the old 

Old Manchester and its Worthies. 383 

British town of Mancuniitm, the entrenched camp from 
whence the polished subjects of the Caesars dispensed their 
laws, the ancient Saxon village, the dingy narrow-laned 
but thriving town of the Elizabethan period, and the iden- 
tical Manchester, the streets of which we are treading 
to-day. And may not Manchester men with honest pride 
confess that in the records of their good old town there are 
to be found examples worthy of imitation in all succeeding 
ages ? It is an oft-repeated saying that — 

"The evil which men do Hves after them : 
The good is oft interred with their bones." 

But it is happily just as often the reverse ; and so it is 
with Manchester's departed " worthies ; " whatever of evil 
attached is interred with them, but the good endures, and 
will cause their names to be, cherished in the grateful 
memory of Manchester men to all time. We have only 
been able to dwell upon the more notable of the local 
worthies, but the long roll of names that Manchester pos- 
sesses is one of which any city may be justly proud ; and as 
we study the characters of those good and earnest men 
who in their day and generation rendered such distinguished 
service to the town, may we not rejoice that their example 
has been so worthily followed in later times. As we now 
chronicle admiringly the De la Warrs, the Huntingtons, 
the Oldhams, the Bradfords, the Chethams, the Newcomes, 
and the Hulmes of old times, so may future generations 
gratefully recount the good works of the Owenses, the 
Athertons, the Fletchers, the Barneses, the Gladstones, the 
Birleys, and the Langworthys of the present. 

384 Memorials of Manchester Streets. 


As the Chorus is an ancient idea, we have thought it 
might be applied, with some appropriateness, at the ter- 
mination of our chronicle anent ancient Manchester. To 
the Chorus was given the privilege of expressing an after- 
thought, as well as a fore-thought, — of whispering an aside, 
— or of indulging in such reasonable byplay as might seem 
meet when the main incidents of the drama were enacted, 
and the curtain was about to fall. 

In such privileged spirit, we have peered into the Sub- 
scription List prefixed to these Memorials, which partakes 
much of the character of a peacemaker, for therein are all 
shades of difference blended and reconciled. The Liberal 
Duke and the Conservative Earl grace the same platform ; 
whilst rival candidates for parliamentary honours are no 
longer at enmity. 

Evidently LITERATURE is the neutral ground whereon 
the opposing warriors in the battle of life may smoke the 
pipe or light the cigar of peace. Where, in any other 
direction, shall we find such neutral safeguard .' In the 
political hemisphere .? Nay. If Andrew Marvel, a model 
of political purity, could return from the shades to join 
one of our clubs, the opposing associations would denounce 
him as venal. And even in the loftier sphere of religion, 
if an angel were to descend to preach one of the many 
earthly doctrines, we fear that, in the eyes of all other 
doctrinarians, the winged messenger would cease to be 
angelic. But in LITERATURE (for which blessing let all 
persons be duly grateful) is found the realisation of the 
Happy Land ! 

R. W. P. 


Actors' farewell addresses, 8i 
Adams, Orion, newspaper publisher, 

Adams, Roger, newspaper publisher, 

Agnew, Thomas, Mayor of Salford, 88 
Ajnsworth, William Harrison, remarks 

on the rebels, 269 
Ancient Deansgate and the " rows " of 

Chester, 218 
Ancoats Bridge, double murder at, 124 
Anderton, T., newspaper publisher, 201 
Armstrong, Mr, recorder, 92 
Ashcrofts and Holden, execution of, 70 
Aston, Joseph, newspaper proprietor, 

Atherton, Miss Eleanor, 137, 265 
Aytoun, Comet, 13, 14 

Baines, Richard, 40 

Ballad of Sir Tarquin, 102 

Bamford, Hannah, grave and epitaph, 


Banne, Nathaniel, A.M., 260 
Barritt, Thomas, 16, 35, 220 
Berry and Casson's plans of Manchester 

and Salford, 269 
Bishop Lee ; biographical sketch and 

memorial sermon, 286, 287 
Blacklock, Robert, printer, 202 
Blenorchard, or Wallegreenes, 204 
Boathouse and curious bath in Salford, 

239, 240 
Bookseller's petition, i8o 
Bookstalls and book-hunters, 51 
Booth, Humphrey, his tombstone in- 
scription, 279 
Bothe, Thomas del, 12, 333 
Bowden, Wright, opera-singer, 80 
Bower, Miles and Elizabeth, 263 
Bradford, John, martyr, 348-350 
Brearcliffe, Sarah, Erearcliffe's Build- 
ings, 24s 
Brideoake, Ralph, 364 
Brookes, Rev. Joshua, 34, 35, 37 

Brookes, Warwick, artist, 249 

Broster, Charles, 245 

Broster, Sarah, 178 

Browne, John, earliest stationer, 1 79 

Bull-bait in Red Bank, the last, 43 

Bull's Head, Market Place, 194, 381 

Buttercups and daisies, 253 

Butter seized, St George and the Dra- 
gon notwithstanding, 274 

Butter short of weight distributed 
amongst the poor, 273, 274 

Byrom, John, 370, 371 

Calvert, Very Rev, Thomas, CD., 281 

Cartmel, kitchen-fire unextinguished, 73 

Cartmel Priory Church, 72 

Castle wall at Castle Field, 100 

Cathedral Yard, 188 

Centenarians — Jonas Mann, Ann Bar- 
ton, 280 

Chadderton, Dr, Warden, 350 

Charity school in the Old Churchyard, 

Chetham, Humphrey, 30, 33, 352-355 

Chetham Library, on the, 299-316 

" Cherry ripe," 251, 252 

Cherry-trees, gardens, and orchards, 

Clarke, Abraham and Isaac, book- 
sellers, 198 

Clarke, Dr, Adam, 166 

Clayton, Rev. John, 193 

Clayton, William, bookseller, 192 

Clock Alley, 274 

Club, John Shaw's, 373-377 

Cocks and hens, throwing at, on 
Shrove Tuesday, 273 

Cockpit and cockfighting. Paradise 
Salford, 246, 247 

Cockpit at the upper end of Deansgate, 


College Barn at the College Gate-house, 

College, Chetham's, election of scholars 


2 C 



Collier, Thomas and John, printworks, 

Springfield, 244, 245 
Coronation rejoicings at Salford Cross, 

Cross and Court-house, Salford, 247, 

Crossley, James, F.S.A., 145 
Cnimpsall Hall and Cottage, 33, 34, 

341, 352 
Curious recapitulation of the events of 

ancient history, 312 
Curiosities shown at the College (now 

dispersed, chiefly to the museum at 

Peel Park), 307 

Deansgate, retrospective glance of,2i3 

Dee, Dr John, 351 

Defoe, Mercy and Daniel, 282 

De la Warr, Baron of Manchester, 4, 

108, 113, 333-339 
Delineations of the ancient town, 319- 

Derby, Edward, the third Earl of the 

House of Stanley, 114, 1155 the 

" Erie's " epitaph, Ii6 
Description of Crumpsall Hall, 33, 34 
Diary of Edmund Harrold, extracts 

from, 259, 260 

Eagle and Child Coffee - house, 

Easby, John, correspondent of the Era, 

Eel chased in the Irwell in 1825, 5 
Egerton, Lord Francis, and the remains 

of the Castle wall, 100 
Exchange, the first, 267, 268 

Falkner, Matthew, newspaper pub- 
lisher, 165, 196 

Fall of a stage, eight persons drowned, 

Fatal panic at the Trafford Arms, 236- 

Fine for selling bread before it had 
been baked twenty-four hours, 274 

Fire-engines, former stations, 271 

Floods, list of, 7, 8 

Foster, Thomas, shot on Blackfriars 
Bridge, 39 

Gallant, Ann, 280 

Gibson, Mr, town-clerk of Salford, 89 

Green-Gown School, epitaphs on first 

master and mistress, 230 ; Costumes 

and present property, 232 

Greenwood, John, early printer, 183 
Gregson Street and Watson Street, 215 

Hale Churchyard, epitaph on a cen- 
tenarian, 129 
Hanson, Joseph, "Weavers' Friend," 

Harland, John, 122, 289 
Harrold, Edmund, wigmaker and dealer 

in books, 1 83 
Harrop,James,newspaperpubIisher, 200 
Harrop, Joseph, newspaper publisher, 

Haslingden, John, bookseller, 201 
Haworth family : Haworth's Gates, 36- 

Hayes, George, artist, 39 
Heathcote, Nathaniel, stationer, 181 
Herald office attacked by a mob, 165 
Heron, Joseph (now Sir), town-clerk,- 

Heywood, Thomas Percival (now Sir), 

High Sheriff, 88 
Hibbert-Ware, Samuel, M.D., 189, 190 
Higson, John, 288-291 
Hilton, Robert, bookseller, 182 
Hinde, Mrs Ann, monumental inscrip- 
tion, 229 
Hindley, Job, 46-49 
Historical monuments in village 

churches, 284 
Hodges, Thomas, bookseller, 195 
Holland, Abraham, bookseller, 182 
Holmbe, William, printer, 196 
Hoole, Josephus, A.M., 260 
Hopps, John, bookseller, 202 
" Hot Chelsea Buns," 275 
Houlds worth, Thomas, M.P., 83 
Howard, John, prison philanthropist, 

14, IS 
Hud, Thomas, earliest printer, 182 
Hughes, Moses, oboe player, 217 
Hull, William, an artist's sketch-book, 9 
Hulme, William, founder of the Charity 

bearing his name, 366 
Hulme's Milne, or Holm's Mill, 108 
Human skeleton discovered in Halli- 

well Lane, 209 
Humourist and Weekly Journal, pub- 
lished by Orion Adams, 185 
Humphreys' Gardens, in 
Huntington, John, warden, 340 

Infirmary to Ardwick Green, new 
road opened, 271 



Johnson, Ephraim, bookseller, 183 
Jones, Wilraot Henry, printer, 75 
Jordan, William, earliest calico printer, 

Jvipiter Stator, statuette excavated, 128 

Kersal Moor, concerning its ballads, 

138, 141 
"Knot Mill Giant's Tower," Tarquin 

and Sir Lancelot, loi 

Labrey's Fold, 1 10, 132 

Langley, Robert, Langley Hall, 36 

Lawson, Charles, 26, 27 

Lee, Jesse, genealogist and author, 213, 

Lees, Richard, bookbinder, ig6 
Lever, Robert, of Darcy Lever, 76, 79 
Lever's Hall, 272 
Literary evergreens and ephemerals, 

Little Red Riding-Hood, 157 
Liverseege, Henry, list of Ids works, 

Longworth Street, "Mr Longworth's 

house," 130 
Lnddite riots and executions, 123-125 
"Ludditing" in Alport Lane, 123; 

three of the rioters executed, 124 

Manchester at market in 1823, 194, 


Manchester Jacobites, heads of, 266, 
267, 368-381 

Manchester "ragman," and "King's 
cobbler," 282 

Morton, William, artist, 250 

Mosley, Sir Oswald, " Family Me- 
moirs," 106, 113, 126 

Moxon, Mordecai, stationer, 182 

Mulberry Street, 265 

Newberry, Mrs Ann, 265 

Newcome, Henry, Nonconformist 
divine, 365 

Newton, Thomas and William, book- 
sellers, 197, 198 

Old Apple-Market, 26 
Old bookseller's experience, 59 
Old Church of St Mary's, 295, 296 
Old Churchyard, its rural aspects, 176 
Old Coffee-house in the Market Place, 

Oldham, Hugh, founder of the Free 

Grammar School, 341-34S 

Old Iron Foundry, Red Bank, 44 
"Old Mortality" among the tombs, 

Oldham Street, a public road, 272 
Ordsal great bam, 295 
Orme, W., sketcher of Hunt's Bank, 

Our native streams, " Rambles by 

Rivers," 8 
Owen, John, his diary, 291-296 

Palmer, John, architect, 191, 192 
Panoramic view of modem Deansgate, 

Parsonage lands, prospect of, 207 
" Pauper's Drive," by T. Noel, 10 
Peel Lane, near the Mile House, 282 
Perrin, Joseph, at the Manchester 

" Poets' Comer," 28 
Philips, Robert, of the Park, monumen- 
tal inscriptions, 23 
Piccadilly, its characteristics, 146-149 
Pit at the top of Market Street Lane, 

Plague, man chained in his cabin during 

the, 13 
Potter, Sir John, Mayor of Manchester, 


Pratt, John and Joseph, printers, 44 

Prescott, John, newspaper publisher, 

Printing-office of the Manchester Mer- 
cury, 199 

Prisoners, list of, 12-14 

Punishments, former modes and instru- 
ments of, 356, 357 

"Purgatory" and the "Lion's Den," 
in Deansgate, 217 

QuiNCEY, John, linen-draper, 206 
Quincey, Thomas, linen merchant, 261 
Quincey, Thomas de, 261-263 

Races, their origin at Manchester and 

Liverpool, 137 
Raikes, R., origin of Sunday-schools, 

Robert Owen and Robert Fulton, 134 
Roman road, traces of, 322 
Rood's Gutter, the, 38 
Rosworm, Colonel, 359 

Sal Ford, 250 

Salford bridge and dungeon, 233-236 
Salford charter, 240 ; Spaw Street, 24 1 
Salford fifty years ago, 241-255 



Sanctuary houses, 345 
" Saynte Mary Gayte," 208 
Schofield, J., newspaper publisher, 200 
Sedan-chairs, the latest used in Man- 
chester, 265 
Sedgwick's Court, Everett and Mont- 
gomery, 211 
Seven Stars, Withy Grove, 56, 57 
" Shakers " at church, 14 
Shaw, John, Punch-House,264,37i-375 
Shepherd's Court, Deansgate, 210 
Shelmerdine, Ralph, bookseller, 182 
Shelmerdine, William, stationer, 180 
Shop window illustrated, 54 
Shudehill reservoir and pits, 270 
Siege of Manchester, 118, 119, 360 
Signboards, 153, 272 
Sir Lancelot and the Knot Mill giant, 


Smith, Thomas, "buckbinder," 180, 181 
Smithy Door Bank, picturesque house, 

Sorrocolds and the " Pynners," 219 
Sowler family, inscriptions on the 

tomb of the, 211, 212 
Spinning field, and Lye the jockey, 

135. 136 
Springfield Lane, 244 
St Ann's Square and its original 

entrances, 256-259 
Standings and markets, former posi- 
tions, 271 
Stanley emblems in Long Millgate, 38 
Stany hurst, accidents at, 65 ■ 
Stephenson, James, pictorial engraver, 

Stewart Street and its builder, 129 
St John Street, "Sir Percy Legh," 

St Michael, supposed church of, 121, 122 
Strange, Lord, at Aldport Lodge, 118, 

119 ; emblematic carving in Bolton 

Church, 120 
Sugar Lane, victims of the plague, 78 
Suicides buried at cross roads, 209 
Summer camp of the Romans, 178 

Taylor family, the oldest known 
epitaph belonging to the Cathedral 
Yard, 278 

Thyer, Robert, librarian of Chetham's 

College, 233 
Timperley, Charles H., printer and 

author, 186, 187 
Tomb of our first Bishop, inscription on 

the, 285 
Tower of the Cathedral rebuilt, 292, 293 
Tumbull, M., newspaper publisher, 200 

"Victorious Stump," John Wild 
the pedestrian, 141-144 

Wagstaff, Silence, and Mr Leigh, 

Ward, Mr and Mrs, comedians, 80-83 
Water- Poet's description of his enter- 
tainment, 221 
Water worth's Field, 5 
Weatherley, James, his diary, 5^-59 
Weighing-machine at Aldport town, 130 
Wesley, John, preaching, 248, 369 
"What's in a name?" street nomen- 
clature, 222 
Whatton, William Robert, F.R.S., 

igo, 191 
Wheeler, Charles, newspaper proprie- 
tor, 202 
Whitaker, Gamaliel, royalist vicar, 

66, 67 
Whitaker, Rev. John, 120-123, 178, 

179, 208 
Whitworth, John, bookseller, 183 
Whitworth, Robert, newspaper pub- 
lisher, 183, 193, 194 
Whitworth, Zachary, bookseller, 183 
Willatt, John, postmaster; Wilktt, 

Sarah, postmistress, 264 
Williamson, George, seventy years 

chorister and singing man, 281 
Windmill near St Peter's Church, 131 
Withingreave Hall, orchard, and garden, 

Wolcot, Dr, 179 
Woman slain by a, tree in the Old 

Churchyard, 176 
Worsley, Charles, of Piatt, 361-363 
Wray, Cecil Daniel, M.A., 280 
Wroe, James, bookseller, and news- 
paper proprietor, 53-55